No! That’s not your spot.

I saw you come from the back

and slither smoothly

into line, like a snake.

Did you think I wouldn’t see your

smug, entitled face turn

And seek my anger?

I have waited in this line

for longer than time.

I went to get soft serve ice cream tonight with two of my kids, and we had to stand in a long line. People were generally standing about six feet apart and almost everyone wore a mask. But then a guy and two teens got in line behind us, without masks and without the sense or awareness to distance themselves from us as we stood waiting.

I got more and more nervous the closer they crept. Finally I couldn’t stand it anymore. I steeled myself and then asked him to please stay six feet back from us. He said he’d put on his mask, which was around his neck but just hanging there. Okay, I said, but they [the teens] don’t have masks on either. But we’re outside, he protested. I know, but I’d still feel more comfortable if you moved back.

They did, and I felt awkward because we had to keep standing there with them right behind us and proud of myself for speaking up (it’s really hard for me) and guilty because I sounded angrier than I’d have liked.

But I guess I can work on speaking in a more compassionate way next time, because I’m sure there will be one. Hopefully not with that guy again, though.

First, a prayer sustained—

wide eyes, turned heads, and whispers,

aggregating fear.

A disembarking,

then centuries of aching

bodies and crushed souls.

Awaken from your

Four-hundred-year-long nightmare

Now the monster sleeps

One small scared haiku

Alone in a great big post

Can it be enough?