by Elizabeth Challinor

I saw her wrinkled face break

Silently, into the most beautiful trembling laugh

Six or seven on the Richter scale

An earthquake of surprise

I won't tire, I thought

Of writing about that

The sense of being a privileged witness

Although this is different, I mused, as she is clearly not on her own

I turned ever so slightly to catch a glimpse of her travel companion

There was none

Just a younger woman

No connection whatsoever

Eyes reflecting the lights of a distant constellation

Bravo! That laugh really was all yours

Sending out shockwaves of joy

Shared between you and yourself

Her eyes flashed shyly, with an inquisitive expression, in the direction of my smile 

Elizabeth Challinor