Two old friends sitting side by side,
occupied with the hum of miles
rolling beneath them.
Separately, and together too,
they look out to the dark reaches of the road,
to the darkness of the road.
Silent thoughts intersperse with vocal ones,
the selected mind-material for sharing
edited, makes its way out to utterance.
Nods, smiles, shaking of the head,
gestures mostly sensed at the margins, unseen,
in the dim, pulsed glow of highway lights.
Conversations warm, bubble up, and burst forth.
Such a strong urge there is to agree,
to weave a cocoon of mutual understanding
around familiar contours of love and friendship.
Details fade into insignificance in the face of it.
Eyes half-lidded with warm fatigue see little
of the jarring edges of what awaits,
and can wait a while yet,
in the bracing solitary morning.