Rosalynn

She'd smile, and birds would feel that they no longer
had to sing, or it may be I failed
to hear their song.

Within a crowd, I'd hope her glance might be
for me, but I knew that she was shy, and wished
to be alone.

I'd pay to sit behind her, blind to what
was on the screen, and watch the image flicker
upon her hair.

I'd glow when her diminished voice would clear
the muddled thoughts, like lightening flashing in
a gloomy sky.

The nothing in my soul with her aloof
was changed to foolish fullness when she came
to be with me.

With shyness gone and hair caressed with gray,
her smile still makes the birds forget to sing
and me to hear their song.