En La Esquina

On the narrow walkway at a blind
streetcorner where rushing morning
commuters dodge and jostle, a
young woman with a stroller, over-
packed, stalls amidst the scramble.
I’m behind her, she juggles a toy,
her phone (I think), some other stuff,
and a little blanket for (I guess)
the hidden baby, blocking foottraffic,
and a surprise wind at the corner
snatches the blanket away.
An older woman passing pauses,
snags the cloth as it swoops by,
hands it back, in half a second.
Graciasem>, calls the girl, juggling.
The woman, behind sunglasses,
strides forward, on a mission,
on to work, no looking back,
but says, softly (the girl
can’t hear, I hear):
De nada, mi amor.

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