A trick of time

At surfer's beach

truth be told

a rush of splayed bamboo

screens the waves

good sets rolling in

the young like seals

let gravity be the guide

surfers shower and peel wet suits to reveal new skin 

we talk

re-construct

the past

share our sides of it

and wonder what happened in all those years

See?  It's all good

I am who I am

who I was meant to be

after all these years.

Me with my conventional joys, clogged heart, head in the sand

wondering what it I had just let go?

You with your uncut cords and highway stories from beyond the maps,

wondering what a white picket fence might have meant.

We think back to the paths we crossed and wonder how all this time's gone by

(And we both know time's a trick don't we?)