When viewing a painting I liked by Paul Klee,
A docent-in-training came over to me.
Can I ask you some questions, if you wouldn’t mind,
About “Old Married Couple,” as she’d been assigned.
I told her the woman appeared to berate
Her husband, who seemed to accept this as fate.
His eyes, closed or downcast, displayed on his face
Resignation, as if he’d accepted his place.
The trainee, amused, didn’t say I was wrong
But her script sang a very much different song.
The husband was sleeping, the wife, sitting near,
Gazed with tenderness - how it was meant to appear.
I called to my husband to see what he thought
And he gave me the answer that I would have sought.
He agreed with my take, all the proof that we’d need
That we sure are an “old-married couple” indeed.
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