the laughing lady dressed in brown,
smiling to herself, waved with frenzied fingers
as soon as she approached me.
I wanted so to know her mind.
When she spoke in foreign tongues
she blinked to wet her eyes.
I found in her an innocence,
a comfort and a warmth.
Our entire lives, past the fantasy at five,
are spent in the pursuit of rediscovery.
Caught up in growing older, we
forget how to be happy.
Yet you think me mad
if I am laughing and enjoying life,
if I have no want for money, if
i am contented by the grassy hill.
You envy those who smile, the happy-to-be-alone
who are confiding in themselves.
You’re afraid of those who dance when they could walk,
but they have everything you want.