the cartwheel

she beams
like a full moon
when you see her
on the street.
her head held
high, a smile
unconsciously
etched
into her soft
face. before she
can say the words,
you say them
for her.
you're in love
aren't you,
you tell her,
and she laughs
and throws
her hands up
to the sky.
yes, she says.
yes, I am.
it's wonderful,
she sings,
then does a cartwheel
down the street,
waving
farewell.