Laughing

They were four men of a certain age,
white-haired with faces lined like road maps,
sitting comfortably at the table next to ours,
companions of long standing swapping stories,
laughing.

There was so much laughter,
even though they were all of an age
to have known loss intimately--
a friend gone, perhaps, or even a spouse,
a job or a belief once held tight against the heart.

When the server finally brought them
a tray tumbling with outrageous desserts
one of them called across the space between tables
and said, "Come join us!"
And just like that, we were laughing, too.