I confess, I stalked her in the grocery
store: her crown of snowy braids held
in place by a great silver clip, her erect
bearing, radiating tenderness, the way
she placed yogurt and avocados in her
basket, beaming peace like the North
Star. I wanted to ask, "What aisle did
you find your serenity in, do you know
how to be married for fifty years, or how
to live alone, excuse me for interrupting,
but you seem to possess some knowledge
that makes the earth burn and turn on its
axis." But, we don't request such things
from strangers nowadays. So I said,
"I love your hair." ~Alison Luterman
From an early age, our parents have
counseled us not to talk to strangers,
as I did my own children. Yet, right
or wrong, I find myself saying more
to strangers than I ever did before.
I seem to feel freer to do so in my
elder years than I ever did when I
was younger.
I suppose you could say that my
comments and remarks are along
the lines of compliments . . . "Fab
beard, stunning ring, great hairdo."
And once in a while, I'll go so far
as to say, "You have such a sweet
countenance."
Seeing a kindness, I make an effort
to compliment the person. I find
people are often pleased with my
odd remarks. I sorrow that we can't
have more of the sweet and less of
the sour.
Alas in today's world, we have to
be somewhat circumspect . . .
im the odd one out
no cookie cutter for me
come join in the fun
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