Martin Robertson

Now and Then

[I have (what seemingly you do not see)]

I have (what seemingly you do not see)

an attested capacity

for causing irritation to those I love

even though they love me.

You have (you tell me, what I’ve no inkling of)

a temper that flares high on a short fuse.

A bad combination, one would suppose,

a recipe for trouble.  

 

Yet

neither of us really believes that.

Less because of our partedness (together

only in fragments of a honeymoon).

Much more because

we feel our chords so faultlessly in tune

how can there be

the makings here of a disharmony?