It’s the laugh that gives her away
bursting through that serious persona
crinkling the steely-eyed stare.

There’s something sensual in it,
that melts that cold, calm look
much like Pompeii looked at Vesuvius
before it erupted hot, molten lava
while they shrieked their surprise.

I bask in its warmth and rub the cold
from my life before its fire.
If there is a chord, that David knew,
that pleased the Lord,
the notes are in her laugh.

It comes easily to her;
makes me feel funny
and clever and confident
all the things I’d like to be,
but seldom ever am.

Her laugh makes me feel
like what I could be
and not just what I am.