"Famous"

As I've been recently reminded of the lack of updates here, and as I do some reading in preparation for thesis writing and critiquing this coming spring, I came upon a poet new to me, and I do think I'm a fan:

Famous
by Naomi Shihab Nye
The river is famous to the fish. The loud voice is famous to silence, which knew it would inherit the earth before anybody said so. The cat sleeping on the fence is famous to the birds watching him from the birdhouse. The tear is famous, briefly, to the cheek. The idea you carry close to your bosom is famous to your bosom. The boot is famous to the earth, more famous than the dress shoe, which is famous only to floors. The bent photograph is famous to the one who carries it and not at all famous to the one who is pictured. I want to be famous to shuffling men who smile while crossing streets, sticky children in grocery lines, famous as the one who smiled back. I want to be famous in the way a pulley is famous, or a buttonhole, not because it did anything spectacular, but because it never forgot what it could do.

"Famous as the one who smiled back"... that might just be what made this grab me in the first place, smile in understanding and appreciation. Just the other day, I found myself chatting with a friend about the apparent hostility of most Washingtonians as observed on the Metro, where I always chuckle to myself to see masses of people standing together, packed in hip-to-hip yet virtually never smiling, making eye contact, or saying anything. Nothing like the small town America I'm used to, where it really does seem like everybody knows your name, "Cheers" style, while the Andy Griffith Show theme song plays in the background. 


"No one ever makes eye contact or smiles on the Metro," I laughingly bemoaned. "I did," he corrected with a bit of a smirk and a nudge. I couldn't help but glance over and smile. "Yes, yes you did - and I'm glad you did." Indeed, earlier blog posts even show mention of a fellow randomly met on the DC Metro last April - and see what's come of it. Because, instead of acting like Washingtonian drones, we smiled back. Almost makes you think of the Coke commercial of spreading the joy (or the Amtrak commercial, if you're feeling romantic).


"Not because it did anything spectacular, but because it never forgot what it could do." ...What a great thought, eh?