Old Friends Poem by Richard Burgess

Two hearts meet beneath the cold city,
They beat together, an intricate mix.
Lost for that moment in each other over coffee swirls,
The golden leaves fall against the grey-blue backdrop
The rain disperses in soft circles upon the boating lake. It is a Wednesday.

Their knowledge is intimate and historical,
They have journeyed together, often miles apart, sometimes wayward.
Always windward to their meeting point years later.
Unity is their origin and their friend.

At this valid life-interlude, nothing else attracts them,
Except the curtain of autumn and innocent memories,
Glinting and focused as light raiment through sparse branches,
Unique and measured as shared thoughts justify a union.

The golden hue takes on symbolic form,
Two greying men past their mid-point are embalmed in a blaze of glory,
A recognisance and a conscious awakening
Back to their origin, their end-point and the light.