Apartment buildings at 7 ©Lauren Helf
April 27, 2020
7 P.M.
The applause, cheers, whistles, and rapping of pots is a nightly ritual in my neighborhood, too.
I hear it through windows overlooking the street, and through windows on the backyards as well.
But although I search, I cannot see the people mounting this tribute.
It rings throughout abnormally empty streets, past blinded windows and across the expressionless rooftops of our afflicted city.
Somewhere, I hope, medical and essential workers are receiving the gratitude and taking heart.
To the rest of us, physically isolated in our rooms, the hurrahs are an assertion and affirmation that we are united and here, still here.
