End of Summer, Lima, March 2018 by Rose Mary Boehm

Apparently invisible to everyone but me
and swinging a plastic shopping bag
from Wong The Grocers,
a large, dark-skinned, curly-haired man
walked past me on a busy Lima avenue.
He was naked.
He was in no hurry.

No one turned, the pedestrian traffic
ignored him so completely
he may well have been an illusion.
The sun had come out late that day,

the whole morning shrouded in low cloud,
turning the sky a pale blue, and you bent
over me to look into my naked eyes. I trusted you
to love what you saw.