Old friends
Old friends
Sat on their park bench

Like bookends
A newspaper blown through the grass
Falls on the round toes

Of the high shoes
Of the old friends


Old friends
Winter companions
The old men

Lost in their overcoats
Waiting for the sun
The sounds of the city

Sifting through trees
Settles like dust
On the shoulders

Of the old friends

Can you imagine us years from today

Sharing a park bench quietly?
How terribly strange to be seventy


Old friends
Memory brushes the same years
Silently sharing the same fear...


Time it was, and what a time it was, it was
A time of innocence, a time of confidences

Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph
Preserve your memories; they're all that's left you