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.