On a bench one Sunday

You sit on a bench,
head forward, brow furrowed
Listening to angry words,
that have made me
want to scuttle away
like a little ant.

But you, my darling,
are brave and kind.
So you wait with a firm presence,
listening,
to scrambled sentences
from a troubled mind.

I watch you,
and my heart sees
one "whom having not seen, I love",
And I love you even more.