We are not lovers,

Barely friends,

Just two strangers sitting on a bench.

We exchange stories-

Of sunsets missed,

Of strangers walking past,

Of laughter unheard,

Of smiles unseen.

We do not know what tomorrow holds.

Though, I am glad

That we are more than strangers now.

We do not miss the sunset-

We watch as the golden rays paint

Its canvas, the clouds, soft hues

Of pink, and red, and orange.

Strangers walk past us,

They are heading home

For it is getting cold.

The street lamps light up,

Yet two friends still sit on a park bench,

Exchanging the music of our anxieties.

The streets are quieter,

We are friends, not strangers.

Holding hands, we smile

As we exchange the harmonies of our worries

Of how our future's reeling in,

As our minds reel back

To the film of our pasts.

We are not strangers,

For my heart recognises

The smile on your lips and your eyes,

The quiet laughter from your throat.

For we are friends on a park bench.

jvs