For My Best Friend

So night held within its arms resonance
Of swan and duck on the canal water.
A bridge’s silence looked over its shoulder,
Drew moon, pleased that no reticence caught her.
The quaint narrow streets, the bustle, laughter,
Flickering and stable lights enjoying their weave,
Converging into a subtle dancer’s dress
Found their geometry in our togetherness.
We were at the museum earlier on.
We were moved by Van Gogh’s expressiveness.
The landscapes, portraits of sorrow’s faces,
The wheat field and crows, and sublime traces,
The beauty seen received our thankfulness.
Yet for all that, and woven lights and night’s embraces,
For all swan-resonance, bridge’s silent ways,
These were but echoes, these were but echoes
Of inwardness, friendship’s unspoken graces,
For all their wonder, still softly lit grays.
If that day was regal, expansive, or star,
It was because it honored our hearts and eyes,
Honored our friendship and who we are.

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