In the market of a small village

I saw two women talking with greatest animation

They were old enough to have their children long out of home

Old enough to have gained the wisdom that elders have

Not far away there sat two men as well

Perhaps the husbands of the first

And they too carried on a lively conversation

And showed a calm, unassailed dignity, just as the women did 

The language that those four spoke was unknown to me

But had an ancient ring to it, perhaps native to that land

Perhaps mayan, yes, that must be it

For it was in this region that the Mayans build their fabled cities

But that really make no difference what language they might speak

For the meaning of their words is quite plain from simple observation

All are friends, that is very clear. and have been so perhaps from youth

And they share so much in common that only news is new to them

But I think it is not news of which they speak

There is a great deal of laughter interspersed

I think it is just memories of good times shared

The real essence of friendships that last forever