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November 23, 2021`

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February 27, 2023

Snow from 3rd floor window, Brooklyn.

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March 9, 2023

John Sayles, cinema hero. Aero Theatre.

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April 1, 2023

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June 7, 2023

The day Brooklyn was reported to have the worst air quality in the world.

6 P.M.

It hit us there at the bottom of the stoop.
The air thick, hazy, hard to breathe.
The sky (and this is no metaphor) was burnt orange.
We turned and went back in, monitored air quality
on our cell phones.

There’s a grade school across the street.
The next morning, parents showed up
with masks for themselves, the children
they were dropping off, and any little ones
with them. School children were kept
inside all day. No outdoor activities.
Pick-up time–usually filled with kids
running, chattering, scootering–
was a quick, silent get-away.

Our neighborhood experienced
a complete reversal. This is where people
walk, push strollers, bike, cluster
on stoops. Suddenly, everyone’s gone.
You get that “On-the-Beach-
Gregory-Peck-Ava-Gardner” feeling.

Any post-apocalyptic movie will do.

In a day or two, the worst was gone.
A light rain helped clear the air. Streets filled back up.
Masks disappeared. But a residual uneasiness
that something like this could happen suddenly,
any Wednesday, any day, remained.

Three weeks later, it was back.

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June 10, 2023

Mourning doves, window sill. Brooklyn.

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July 6, 2023

Sand, sticks, shadows.

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