Moving on

Deep in conversation. I stood on the other side of the street watching the exchange between them. Occasional frowns, occasional laughter. They have lived through so much, I cannot begin to imagine the sum total that they have experienced between themselves. I people watch a lot here, and wonder about the fabric of everyone's stories, each one with tales of so much sorrow.  Yet, they still have coffee and cigarettes and sit, laughing. I guess one has to. It's the only way to move on.