When the laughter dances in your eyes
The watcher on the bench can almost fail
        to notice the staggering gait
Your twisted limbs have forced on you.
You hold your companion's hand,
Not for support but with love,
And looking at him you do not see
The broken paving stone
That sends you sprawling to the ground.

As the young man stands beside you
Offering no assistance,
The watcher frowns, offended.
"Help her!" his thoughts become
A silent, outraged shout.

But you regain your feet unaided
And resume your conversation undisturbed.
Nothing strange has happened:
You fell, you rose,
And confidently go upon your way.