haystack

the three of us
old friends
from the old school
members of
the same club
the same class
the same secret society

spending our days
walking the streets of the old town
together
tipping our hats in unison
as pretty women pass us by

the three of us

sat together at noon
as we eat our lunch
on the grass outside the savings and loan
where we work
and where we whisper
of a shared future

working the hours
investing the earnings
building the empire

the three of us

together

and no one knows
that we share
the same house
the same rooms
the same bed

the three of us

old friends

straw hats burn easily