Habemus Papam

Habemus Papam A long, steep road- life time for some- and tired I paused outside a shop selling wigs I didn´t go in, but its owner came out, handed for a beautiful hairpiece for frosty weather. I looked ten years younger, ambled with firm steps to the town´s plaza and seen by adoring women, wore sunglasses to hide my celebrity. A gust of wind my wig flew off, landed on top of a street lamp its light came on even though it was in the middle of the day and austerity. A chorus of unseen singers sang: Baldy, baldy, baldy, my vanity vanished as morning mist. “Why are you bald?” six year old girl asked. “I was a seal suffering from hydrophobia and could not jump up in the air and look cute.” In a Chinese shop I bought a red hat, citizens gaped at me with awe, and whispered is he our new papa?