There is a look I give my love
in public places, where words are inadequate
and inappropriate. No gestures
quite express my fond regard like that little glimmer--
A half-smile, a sideways glance.
He ignites to it
like I touch his soul with a match.
I'm not sure how it appears
from the other side of my eyes.
One day, leaving church,
I tossed my look his way.
A man at his side
whom I'd never met
"I sure hope that's your wife,"
he said, "Or you are in
some kind of trouble."
I kept walking, bemused,
leaving him to explain