Had Myself a Smiley Day

by Ernie McCray

Had myself a smiley day
the other day
from the time I woke up
until the time
I called it a day.

Seemed like mostly everything
put a smile on my face:
the rain dropping gently
instead of flooding the place,
the sun peeking through the clouds,
promising a nicer day
later in the day
and my smile widened
as my day got underway,
beginning with a lyft ride
that had me feeling
warm and cozy inside,
glowing with pride
from being asked once again
for my participation
in opening City College’s,
annual conference
on social justice education,
an affiliation
that lands me on a stage
where I can give a summation
of my latest notions and inclinations,
this year
my take
on children having a world to save
and how nice it would be
if we showed them how to behave
in ways
that would pave the way
for them
doing such a rescue job
some day.

The hand clapping and cheers
was music to my ears
and I thought my smile
would never fade away,
especially when
noted poet and public speaker,
Yosimar Reyes,
stepped on the dais
and filled the auditorium
with laughter,
articulating his story of migration
and undocumentation
and how his
social and political consciousness
as a gay human being,
just trying to be
came to be –
and then I was off
to a session
dedicated to women
having their claims of sexual improprieties
being believed,
taken at face value seriously
as false accusations
are not that common
in reality
and the lively conversation
reduced my smile to tears
as I took into consideration
that far too many women
feel unsafe,
victimized
in a world of male domination.

And those tears,
later in the evening,
flowed again
as seven
mesmerizing black women
lovelified a stage,
singing in blues tones,
dancing with deep African rhythms in their bones
speaking from the recesses of their souls
of colored girls,
smothered by their anger
and their pain,
crying out of their despair,
contemplating suicide
when the rainbow was enuf,
yearning to love and be loved
something of which,
in their lives,
there was very little of,
yet humor flowed
in and out and around
the verses and choruses
as one sometimes
has to laugh
to keep from crying;
smile to keep from dying.

And driving home
my smile was very much alive
as a scene
in the evening’s renderings
played in my head,
taking me back to my childhood days
when grade school girls’ pretty voices
would fill the playground
with:
“Little Sally Walker
Sittin’ in a saucer
Rise Sally rise
Wipe your weepin’ eyes…”
And then they would
put their hands on their hips
and let their backbones slip,
and they would shake it to the east
and they would shake it to the west
and they would shake it to the one
that they loved the best…

Oh, I can’t help but smile
at precious memories
of how life used to be
or at notions
of how I would like life to be.

Anyway, what can I say
other than I had myself a smiley day.