my friend from childhood, teenage days
and for an hour we talked
and giggled like two boys;
grown men with seven kids between us,
made helpless by the warmth of memory
stirring laughter from fine detail
both of us could add.
I heard his Midlands accent fade
and mine, he said, reverted to
our country burr and phrases, words,
we both had set aside till now;
the mutual lost language that
we both could clearly understand
and comfortably wear,
like old shirts.
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