Laughter

She tilts her head whenever I laugh

Worry, confusion, is it her I mock?

Not knowing I chuckle at the second half

The perfection in movement, resonant talk.

 

I laugh at perfection no matter the form

I laugh in delight at beauty and grace

at well wrinkled hands and wood well-worn

I laugh when I find so much as a trace.

 

I mock imperfection wherever it’s found

with the full-fledged power of a proud polemic

I wear perfect movements  and beautiful sound

There are thus two meanings whenever I mimic

 

My laughter may mock but it does so to heal

to open hard hearts and allow them to feel.