I met you last night, my friend, my bearded old wise friend. I met you in a dream. You lived on the top floor of a narrow old building, that was part of a narrow street, that was part of a city as old as the millennium. The street was lit by yellow old fashioned lamps that reflected all of our faces.
I rang the bell. You were there with your wife and opened your window. You looked down at us we looked up at you and both of you waved, welcoming us. I was visiting you with my son and you were having a party.
We climbed the stairs and joined you. You looked at me very serious and waited, with attention. Your house had friends and food. I was there.