He laughed lazily in a sunbeam
Shining decently on his forehead
It made him seem golden, golden
Like the laugh he loved to release.
It was autumn and the leaves colored
His day with shades of yellow again.
He laughed at the autumn leaves
And seemed golden under them.
The lady nearby asked the man
What he was doing, laughing alone.
With sincere glee he said to her:
“Because I enjoy it here.”
She walked away, moody, disturbed,
Wondering about the golden man.
In her daydreams she saw yellow
Streaks falling like light-beams
As they struck a figure laughing,
Alone to himself under the sun.
Why was he laughing so loudly?
“Because I enjoy it here,” he said.
She sat on her porch in a chair
That rocked back and forth with
A cup of coffee in her hand, resting.
The solitude and loneliness warmed
And she laughed, too, like the golden man did.