The grey and tan house on the busy highway,
where traffic flowed like the river it was named after,
Halfway from nowhere,
Halfway to somewhere,
"leave your stinking thinking at the door."

The two multi-coloured coats in a warm embrace,
shoulders' held the others face,
long hair mopped up the tears,
they did not pat each other on the back.

But rub the shoulders, the arms and back,
as if a genie would appear so
they could wish it all away,
and start with a new day.

But that did not happen.

Sadly each took a slow step back,
hands dropped through a painful wave,
' Good-bye'
now turning to walk,
nodding as they both spoke,
not waiting for the answer to the
echoed
"stay in touch"

I hope they do,
it will matter much.