Old Friends

Old friends

Old friends

Sat on the park bench like bookends

Newspapers blow through the grass

Land 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

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 fears

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