Old Friends

They're always stalling
traffic, running into each
other in the oddest
and most inconvenient
places, catching up
just when you need
to get to the office
pronto, chatting away
through the open
window in the drizzle
while we wait and wait
for one of them to take
the hint delivered
by an impatient
horn five cars back.
Still they keep on
jawing. Perhaps we
are not angry but
rather envy them
their bond, whether
strong or tenuous—
the connection they
have that stops cars
while we stop here
alone.