There’s some stupidity in that,
Michael said as he paused from his work.
I had just been quoting a famous poet
who talked about being shamelessly happy,
and Michael, leaning on his broom
on a stoop of a store, said,
why not just be gloriously happy
or wonderfully happy,
and darned if that moment
the day didn’t shine brighter
as if all I had to do was ask for it.