We walked across the gap of time,
And swapped our myths of broken words.
Our bodies moved within one space:
This void between these walls we shared.
We held a century in our grasp:
The wars and births and distant dreams.
We shared a common pause for thought,
And watched the skies turn gold and grey.
We wasted hours and waited years,
And breathed Atlantic weather fronts.
The tree – which rattled Autumn’s last –
Was yours and mine, but never ours.
Between the sands which marked our lives,
The binding roots of blood and breath.