When my mother was alive

We used to walk arm in arm

My hand tucked into the crook of her elbow

We never kissed

Never hugged

But we took long walks

Arm in arm

We walked around the lake in Florida

Walked up Broadway and bought bagels and lox

Walked along the Grand Concourse to Lohmann’s

Walked down subway steps to the D train

Our footsteps matched

We walked down Vermont cowpaths

Walked out onto the pier to watch my father fish

Walked arm and arm in the nursing home

When she could hardly put one foot in front of the other.

When my mother got too weak to walk

I sat in her room and read the newspaper aloud.

One day I went outside to have a cigarette and

She died

So now when I take walks

It’s by myself.