Veils wisp in spring winds
as feet are set the task
of traipsing across
worn grass.
Face glowing in the aftermath
of some joke I cannot fathom,
long strides pulling you across
the intersection.
People stop.
Your laugh
is like pure honey.
People stare
out car windows.
"Veiled"
does not mean she must be
silent.
Does not mean she cannot laugh.
Or smile
like the sun.
Ahead of you
a young man
pulls at your attention
with kind words and smiles
and an air of forgotten prejudice.
Your turquoise-fabric
swirls around your legs
as the grass clings
to your feet.
Caramel skin warmed
and glowing
by the finally present sun
on this hopefully-it’s-spring-now
afternoon.
People stop.
People stare.
I stop,
I stare,
I smile at your joy.
I still don’t understand
how anyone
could not be wrapped up
in your smile of sunlight.
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