A long, steep road, lifetime for some and
tired I paused outside a shop selling wigs
I didn´t go in, but its owner came out, handed
a beautiful hairpiece for frosty weather.
I looked ten years younger, ambled with firm
steps to the town´s plaza and seen by adoring
women, wore sunglasses to hide my celebrity.
A gust of wind, my wig flew off, landed on top
of a street lamp, its light came on even though
it was in the middle of the day and austerity.
A chorus of unseen singers sang: Baldy, baldy,
baldy, my vanity vanished as morning mist.
“Why are you bald?” six year old girl asked.
“I was a seal suffering from hydrophobia and
could not jump up in the air and look cute.”
In a Chinese shop, I bought a red hat, citizens
gaped at me with awe, and whispered: is he our
new papa?
