Friends Of Old

A poem on being close friends through the distance of The Web.

Friends of old


Two women we are,
continents apart.
Mature age we share,
though not the same path.

Like two girls,
we meet and recognize.
Like two girls,
we play and learn.
Like two girls,
we stand together
and see each other bloom.

Friends we seem,
since times long gone.
Yet we met,
a little late.
What else can we do,
but be happy with this fate.