Talking to Myself Thirty-Five August 16, 2020
I had decided to try a street event.
First Sunday I believe they called it.
They gave me a space on the sidewalk
in front of the Joyful Jewel, an art shop.
Sales were hard to come by. I barely
made more than I paid to enter.
Then the art shop owner, Mariah,
came outside and said she’d be happy
to take my books. I gladly accepted.
About that time I began to publish
my mysteries myself. Friends advised
me to do three or four a year. When
I had the funds, I did three. Mariah
kept smiling, but I suspect the volume
of books overwhelmed her. Then
I joined her annual Voice and Vision
event in April and wrote poems about
paintings I liked. Clearly, the poets’
art came from the heart. They hugged,
cried, and laughed. Around them the
paintings, sculptures, hats, cups all
rejoiced with us in this shop which
hallowed the eternally creative spirit.
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