Self portrait 

At four I was brought to be photographed

in a studio near where my father worked.

Perhaps it was a favor, perhaps a gift,

But definitely a tremendous event

because my mother fussed so much.

And the new dress impressed me so intensely

I ceased my eternal weeping.

To make me smile for perpetuity,

the man put a yellow basket in my hand,

seated me on a regal pillowed bench,

then without straightening my sleeves

said ‘watch the birdie’ and flashed

my moment of joy.