Stella May and Magory
It was a moment -
two friends in the middle of the street,
at midnight, in a neighborhood
where you can still stand around
at midnight, in the middle of street.
Two friends,
seperating again, but no goodbyes.
Never a goodbye. I'll see you;
call you Tuesday, but never goodbye
"Let's say a prayer,"
and she did - calling on God to send angels to travel
home with me. I held her hand tight, right there
in the middle of the street, at midnight,
in a neighborhood where you can still do
that sort of thing.
Our faith
was born in the same generation (the tail end
of Catholc girls not wearing patent leather shoes
to school with a dress) We tell nun stories,
immortalized half a continent apart,
and in the next breath, argue the best way to pray.
But who cares, when you're standing in the middle of the street,
at midnight, in a neighborhood where two friends
are too cool to mention the heart tears, that baptized the night,
in the middle of the street.
And you
take that feeling with you everywhere,
because you grew up believing in the journey
friends can renew with a prayer, shared
at midnight, in the middle of the street,
anywhere.
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