I had never worn

a handkerchief

didn’t know whether

it should be right or left

Or the colors that

Told an admirer

Your type of sex

But 10 years ago

It became an accessory

Protecting my neck from

Cancerous outbreaks from

The sun

I loved the green design

Until we visited

Acapulco

And the policeman

Kept pointing at my bandana

It was my husband’s laughter

That clued me into a dilemma

The design was of weed

The police must have thought

I was a pusher

OMG—I will be arrested

And locked in a Mexican jail

Luckily by removing the handkerchief

All’s well that ends well.