Old friends

by Richie McCaffery

We go out and wander drunkenly,
aimlessly. We talk, laugh
and remember none of it.

We empty bottles to fill the day
and swim naked in the cold
meandering rivers of our lives.

Our love for each other
is three-legged, like a cracket
for milking that always finds its level.

Years of school and university
have taught us less than nothing.
But we know where the blackbird

likes to perch to sing
when the blackbird’s
silent and not there.