It's Still Life

The Joyful Old Woman at Customs
(A Ballad of Bureaucracy and Untaxable Delight)

the old woman presents her bags
to the very serious man
with the very serious stamp.

“anything to declare?” he asks.
she smiles.
“joy,” she says.
“four kittens’ worth.
also one (1) slightly used sunset.
and this alleged cat—”
(she gestures to the cat,
currently melting
out of her carry-on
like a guilty butter pat)
“—which is clearly a furry scarf.”

the customs agent sighs.
“…technically,
joy has no tariff code, ma’am.
I should confiscate
this unlicensed merriment.
but…”

(he peers at the kittens,
now sleeping in a sunbeam
that definitely wasn’t there before.)
“…just go.”

“next time,” says the old woman,
“I’m labelling the kittens
as diplomatic parcels.”

(Emma agrees—
they already have
the attitude for it.)