Let a frown be your umbrella~Oscar The Grouch
The great globe escapade dream-like began
in a foreign locale where women mask
while browsing past cheap trinkets and you can
call relics from my childhood vintage, ask
at any Shipshewanna market stall.
Playing photographer, beauty I trail
my friends, two Nordic goddesses I call
framing my shots in joy intentional
and they willingly pose deadpan and all
around I hear the murmur in the crowds,
—who is that? Oh, she’s famous—can’t recall—
and then the vendor cries, and he is loud
no pictures, can’t you read? just radiating
animosity, the cranky man
claiming his legal rights. I end his prate
showing each frame, I offer to abandon
any shots he wishes. Truth, I’m charmed.
He’s bought into my she’s-all-that intent
just as I’m stepping into it. Disarmed
by flowing joy he grudgingly consents.
I grin, thankful his unique eyes can see
my expanding possibilities. How
to step into the challenge? I must be
curious and wild, tuned right in to now.