On Memorial Day
the Artist in a Van parks her VW bus
on the sidewalk by McKinley Park
between the rose garden
and the tennis courts,

she and her mama setting up camp
chairs on the shady lawn,
the daisy-stickered van with its
cargo door wide open for walkers-by
like me to gawk at.

Three times I hustle by with a new
walking buddy, intrigued by the
casual display of block-print cards
peeking from two Thompson’s
cigar boxes. But, not wanting to
interrupt our in-motion conversation,
I keep going, thinking I’ll return,
aware that my best intentions tend
to wander like cats looking for
the just-right afternoon nap spot.

Hours later, to my surprise, I find
them still there, the Artist in a Van
on the lawn with her mama, a quilter,
outdoors enjoying the holiday.

“Sure, the cards are for sale,”
the Artist says, the proceeds to bolster
a Fair Oaks friend’s efforts to rescue
and rehome abandoned chickens.

I’ve read of this Good Samaritan, and,
as part of a team that did the same for
college campus cats, I’m happy to support
the fowl. I’m delighted by the Artist
in a Van’s kind heart, to stand and chat
about art and writing under an elder
sycamore’s leafy generosity,

and, on this glorious day of memory,
kick off summer by lingering
in the park, making new friends.

•••

With thanks to Ilsa Louise Hess, the Artist in a Van, and her mother Caroline.