The sky is turquoise blue, the air is clear.
A meeting of minds, alike as can be.
Their lives so different, parting draws near.
Severed already by a figurative sea.
Working in unison as hearts are bound.
They speak together 'til the job is done.
Ever linked, though proximity unwound.
What does that matter, if memory won?
Memory won, a treasure of the heart.
Their brains vibrate still of roads unsung.
But they are grateful, cherishing the art
beautiful, on physical walls unhung.
Doubting am I, that they meet again still,
but the heart hopes on, as it always will.
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