Exchange

A 5 lb bag of all-purpose flour
knocked on my door this morning,
my friend’s smiling face
six feet down the path. 
Thanks for the bananas the other day, she says, 
do you need any more elastic for masks?

I talked to my mother like this yesterday,
standing in the rain
an emotional mile from her front door.
I’d better go now before I get soaked.
 
I closed the door softly,
hugging the unbleached promise
of fresh bread and biscuits,
momentarily satiated
by the sight of a familiar face
unfiltered by technology,
all the more precious for its distance from mine.

The ways we care for one another
may have changed,
but not the fact that we do.