A funny thing happened

on the way to the market

Or maybe not so funny

A thing, an odd thing

also an ordinary thing

Something happened

First time in five years

since bereavement

accepted sudden invite

to attend a party

Male voice called my name

as I walked out to buy one peach

A neighbour, turned out to be

unseen for quite some time

stood there with his wife

The two of them, somehow matching

pausing on the sidewalk

far side of the avenue

a few blocks from the little street

where all three of us in different modes reside

A neighbour, this man, not a friend

Not an enemy, just not a kindred spirit

My strongest sense of him on tap from years ago

A day when I had walked by his pink house

(no longer pink)

where his small brown-haired son

(now not so small)

had climbed their sturdy gateway tree

took aim and spat down wetly on my head

The neighbour father simpered up at him

that stalwart spitting lad, and said

Sweetie! are you sharing your saliva again?

Did not resonate with this response myself

though I of course smiled too

Now, eagerly, that neighbour father bids me to attend

his . . . party (!) on our street, a few days hence

His waiting wife stays silent

frowning quite a bit

Or maybe that is now her face at rest?

I say wow! how daring! gathering!

Will all be gaily masked and gloved?

And he says no, no masking

outside will be safe enough

Inside myself I shudder — don't think I can do this

don't think it's safe enough for me (nothing is)

Fear not of virus but of questions

pauses, sudden public tears

or just the threat of solitary awkwardness

not coping when surrounded

by a cozy coupled throng —

but still I slowly say gee thanks, how nice of you

how great that sounds

***

part 2 of "Party hearty" follows