I’m not the only one who gawks at the scene
Handful of heads and cell phones below
Local photographer in charcoal appears
There will be others
My office, the room where I do all the things
the crying, the writing, the yoga, working, planning, painting
top floor of the old state bank. 1911 was it?
The center of this tiny town — Coleman
in the center of the pretty palm — Michigan
‘bloom where you are planted’
a sign reads in my window
Restaurant Impossible — a television show with goals
$10,000, a Hollywood crew in black, catering van out back
save the kafe on the korner
where friends & family gather
across the intersection from my space
36 people, the chosen, line up aside sun-scorched gray
vinyl siding. everyone is white, makes sense —
the crew is not, Hollywood — F-350 cab with box
truck, California plates, California people
in this tiny town, waiting to put dinner on the screen
Slate Suburban cruises by, hand in princess wave
a parade, past the dozens smiling
woman in lime flaps a hand
Is she happy to be seen?
Facebook event alerted of the news
I knew what I would do — watching, my son playing. Writing with a carbonated Michelob
noise-cancelling earbuds — good friends
Handsome state trooper pulls up
wait, a local cop. Cough, well done, tiny town
smiles at the just-arrived body guard in an Equinox
tinted windows. Two dozen people left standing.
Someone should bring these people water, chairs.
Did you know the Dollar General was closed today?
It’s the only place to go.
Woah. Two minutes later, did you know what arrived?
Chairs — enough for the ladies — and water bottles
Thank you thank thank you thank you
My best friend drives by, white Silverado
‘In God We Trust’ on the windshield
god — I love this tiny town. Did you know
last weekend, the annual ‘Night of Thunder’
our first in three years, my first in decades
it feels good to be back
The final extras now inside. Traffic cones are gone.
A crew member in skinny jeans pours leftover liquid down our drain
crushes bottles — love the California style — wonder
when will we all do the same
Perhaps this is travel enough —a perch
for people watching
Last time I watched a film crew, the desert
western Rajasthan, a Chinese team and Jackie Chan
dark-skinned extras, terrorists with dummy machine guns
on the steps of my renovated hippie style yellow home
a corner bastion in an 800-year-old fort
below me were the sleeping quarters
for elephants. My kitchen window over three feet thick.
India was incredible.
In its own super sweet way
so is this tiny town.
I’m grateful to be here
Good luck, Leah’s Korner Kafe
Looking forward to pancakes soon
You, too? Check them out.