Walk, meet the world on its wandering 
terms, answer an ever-yearning
to find your place. In the dark

bat-like, craving echoes to know 
each obstacle's position, I take 
a step, but cannot hear it yet

over the low drum roll of traffic, endless 
polluting prelude to magic that fails 
there’s no great car democracy

do you remember them gone, the street 
ceasefire when, to beat a virus, people put 
their vehicle weapons down

then I heard children talking
saw them chalking pavement rainbows 
heard overhead the joy orchestra of birds

and my footsteps sounded again
like a friend window tapping for attention 
each stride the world calling, waving back