Friends

This is the hour of darkness
before the dawn.
I am sitting here with hot coffee,
the shades updrawn,
in the silent house of a friend.
I write words down
on a tablet that is yellow and lined.

I await my friend.

What I do is a mystery to him,
just as what I am
is also a mystery to me,
as is my friend;
as well as the mystery of love
and the ways love ends.