Old Friends

Old friends

Old friends

Sat on their park bench

Like bookends

A newspaper blown through the grass

Falls on the round toes

On the high shoes

Of the old friends

Old friends

Winter companions

The old men

Lost in their overcoats

Waiting for the sunset

The sounds of the city

Sifting through trees

Settle 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