The love of a friend is moonlight,
the reflective heart of a silvered night,
bright blanket that highlights shadows, knowing
even they are worthy of light.

The love of a friend is the first flicker
of a streetlamp that turns on faithfully
with each yellow dusk, a cone of brightness,
a safe place to walk in the darkness.

The love of a friend is a meteor,
an unexpected fist of fiery light
that says "Look up, the sky wants you to fight."

The love of a friend is a candle,
a keeper of nighttime secrets,
a solitary light from which another is kindled.

The love of a friend is "thank you"
and "how are you?" sometimes "I'm sorry"
also "I understand and forgive."

The love of a friend is beyond belief,
like the way you just know--in your last unbroken
bone and only unbruised muscle--the way you just know
that if you make through the night, dawn is coming.