Maggie Flanaganwilkie Poet I do not know?

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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