After leaving an abusive marriage, my mother updated family members on my recovery in this way, “Lucy no longer looks around the room for permission to laugh.” I wasn’t even aware I’d been doing this until it was pointed out to me. For this reason, I chose to write this poem in third person.
By Lucy Furr
When others laugh…
She sits quietly
Until laughter is approved
Her ears prick outward
straining to hear his crackle of euphoria blend with others in happy, symphonic unison.
Musicians tell her she has “no ear”
“Just mouth the words, don’t sing,” they say.
But they are wrong
Her hearing is fine-tuned
She hears subtleties
She hears his silence amidst thunderous cachinnation and, on cue, mimics ill-at-ease
Or, plucks his laughter from raucous seas and yokes her laugh to his.
On these rare moments…
her heart sings.