his rhymes were simple and obvious
but also innocent, child-like
the way he couldn’t be happier
because she said she loved him
we poked gentle fun at them
but the melody captured us
where the words hadn’t
and we sang unabashedly
barefoot, sun-freckled
stomachs full of bread and cheese
coffee and quips about life
and a love of spontaniety
willingly shoeless on city sidewalks
i trotted, contended to simply be
passersby might have wondered if
she is mad? — no, just really glad
that three’s more fun that two
sometimes in the summer sunshine
I am picturizing how all it would have happened.