We don’t talk about the waterfalls,
The jagged cliffs or canyons.
We are dusty road companions
Who wait out the squalls
On either side of the lane.

Perhaps too much the same,
Too different, to be conquerors.
We are friendly wanderers
And there is no shame
In quiet existence.

We waited out the resistance.
We learned the property lines,
Stayed in proper confines,
With dogged persistence,
And trust.

It took time to adjust.
Trading common intensity
At the cost of intimacy,
But we didn’t combust
And that’s good.

Farther than we could
Without one another.
In time, we’ll discover
All we withstood,
All we let thrall.

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