Sitting across from a couple of campy teens (about 15),
He in a news boy cap, red scarf & brown leather jacket,
She is a red jacket with short
cropped auburn hair.
They look at a Smart phone, laughing & commenting
On what they are sharing and I wish I were
Norman Rockwell- I would politely ask if I
Could photograph them and they would joyfully assent
Because I am Norman Rockwell after all and
They would instantly know that they were about to be
Illustrated by a famous hand and would be featured
On the cover of the Saturday Evening Post
If I shared this daydream would they even know
Who Norman Rockwell was?
Not germaine, I remind myself- all I have to say is:
Look it up!
And by magic the Google God on their Smart phone
will deliver images that
Rockwell painted, Saturday
Evening Post covers and a photo or three of
Norman Rockwell with his bio.
As I am contemplating broaching a conversation
With these youngsters, they have flit off
Like lighter than air butterflies, searching the field
For other adventures- and this old poet sits in
Starbuck’s finishing my Americano, remembering
When I was so young I could barely sit still
Let alone pose for Norman Rockwell!
Raintreepoet, reporting.
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