In Quiet Sympathy

As defensive mechanisms go,
those are as effective as any,
and in all likelihood, universally
shared. As a child, when
countering a reproach however
tender or wildly otherwise,
she would ball her little fists
and lisp, wailing, "not my fault!"

That habit became so deeply
engrained the response was swiftly
automatic, covering all bases,
until old enough and resilient
enough to take the lesson and run
with it, we would anticipate her
by smilingly, gently, beating her
to it, our declaration eliciting a
rueful smile of recognition.

After that visceral response
slipped from her memory, that
same subliminal need urged upon
her a suitable replacement in aid
of a similar purpose. Thus was
born the sometimes wistful,
occasionally sullen, even defiant,
"I don't care!", and our hearts
respond in quiet sympathy.