I look at our life together
as one watches a movie without sound.
I hear others laugh and weep
and I don´t know why,
children say, `Why did she do that, daddy?´
and there is no answer.
I fall from balconies –
sometimes you push me, I think –
but always land in a hay cart.
Men with strange eyes leave bombs
that look like croquet balls,
but just as I lift my mallet to hit them
you wave from a window, and I go in.
Will you love me forever?
How did we get into this scrape?
I lean forward and try to lipread,
making out a few syllables,
liking just about everything I see,
not quite understanding the whole.