Peaking over the rusted metal
stands to the leafy ground below.

In the distance, the point of a citadel
stings, as church bells ring.

The search for solid ground -
for knowing without garishly showing,
for dreaming without sleeping;

This balance that eludes
the most agile tightrope walkers.

The shadow of a guardian,
the one behind the nostalgic lens.

One day, these two will be
more than good friends.
More than just cousins.

Brothers, perhaps -
Yes, they will have
their struggles.

Red-coated anger.
Green and grey envy.

But this bond
must not be broken.

Still searching.