Two comrades huddled
On the frigid ground.
Mangy, tattered blanket pulled up
Around grey, matted beards.
A vain attempt at shutting out
The bitter edge of winter.
Kindred spirit vagabonds,
Clumsily riding out the seasons together.
Each lost in his own dream.
Phil envisioned Susan,
A pretty girl with long dark hair
Who left him with only a
Tattooed memory on his forearm;
The girl he still loved now.
Jack dreamt of childhood,
His mother swaying in the kitchen
To the big band sounds;
Laughing as he joined her,
In a waltz around the room.
A sudden rush of icy wind
Pushed Jack from his slumber.
The light that shone upon his face
Revealed an age much greater than his sixty-two.
Gazing steadfast on her glorious light, he smiled.
Freezing bony fingers gripped tighter to
The wretched shred of blanket.
'Some peace for us tonight', he whispered,
Nestling closer to his constant friend.
Just before the snow clouds formed
To rob him of this vision,
Jack slipped silently away somewhere
Far beyond the moonlight.