The People Are in Their Houses


A walk through the neighborhood on a virus filled spring evening.

The COVID-19 Chapter, “At Home”: DAY 20 Something

I took an evening walk in the neighborhood. Here’s a little snapshot of my experience.

The People are in their houses

In stolen moments, I wander out

The moon is full and pink – she draws me into quiet

The trees heavy with fragrance, unaware

With shivers and tears, I walk alone

The people are in their houses


The dusk becoming darker

The houses, glowing from within

Memories flood my senses

My boys at home, wondering where I am

The people are in their houses


Eerie silent boulevards

No sound from cars, or life

The deafening moon, slides through the clouds

A virus, dancing on the breeze

The people are in their houses


Fellow wanderer! good evening

We speak of work and paint

You go that way, I’ll go this way

You shouldn’t be outside

The people are in their houses


My neighbors heed the warning

What about me? out here

Specters with crowns, boys with guns

I forgot to be afraid

The people are in their houses


Strange beauty in the moonlight

I risk my life to dare the dark, breathe the air

I should turn towards home

Danger, danger amidst birthdays and balloons

And the people are in their houses