Snubbed by her cheerfulness like a loud door
how can I greet her without adjustments?
So when she’s gone I always stray
after her temperament, her air –
hoping to keep step with her in her absence.

So when she calls again, I rise to meet her
as if I, not she, paid the visit.
Our seasons shift, slowly, together.
I see her now without a change of weather,
almost, after a minute.

You call me liar and I suspect myself.
But no one suffers, what’s improper?
I learn her through and through – she’s someone else;
and with my added step deepen her pace.
Mine falters, true; towards being happier.