"I Like Your Hat!"

 

Small Kindnesses 

A poem by Danusha Laméris 

I’ve been thinking about the way, when you walk

down a crowded aisle, people pull in their legs

to let you by. Or how strangers still say "bless you"

when someone sneezes, a leftover

from the Bubonic plague. "Don’t die," we are saying.

And sometimes, when you spill lemons

from your grocery bag, someone else will help you

pick them up. Mostly, we don’t want to harm each other.

We want to be handed our cup of coffee hot,

and to say thank you to the person handing it. To smile

at them and for them to smile back. For the waitress

to call us honey when she sets down the bowl of clam chowder,

and for the driver in the red pick-up truck to let us pass.

We have so little of each other, now. So far

from tribe and fire. Only these brief moments of exchange.

What if they are the true dwelling of the holy, these

fleeting temples we make together when we say, "Here,

have my seat," "Go ahead — you first," "I like your hat."

************

Friends, 

I hope you enjoyed the poem. 

Including too, just a few random photos. 

Here I am with two of my Grand Nieces, Hailey (left) and Harper (center). 

We were at Hailey's high school tennis tournament on an early Spring afternoon. 

May 1st, walking in the wind and sun along the waterfront at Everett, WA. 

And below, a favorite pic from the season so far...

Keep your horizons wide and deep...

Location: off Dodge Valley Road, near La Conner.

Hey, I like your hat!

Be well, Mary