Hearing you wrongly pronounce a word,
Or laugh, the way you always used to laugh,
High, in a pealing burble, like a bird
Cooing to an unseen better half
As yet not fully wooed, or seeing you
Rustle with an urgent sense of need
For something hardly worth a big to-do
Like that same bird exploring for birdseed
Upon an empty pavement, wondering
If you could see me laugh (my own strange way)
At you and your delightful blundering,
And if you did, what nonsense I would say
To interest you; doing this I recall
The reason that I love you after all.
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