Old friends,
Old friends
Sat on their park bench
Like bookends.
A newspaper blown though the grass
Falls on the round toes
Of the high shoes
Of the old friends.
michael
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.
seventy
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
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
58
Invert those numbers, and you get 85 (my mother -in-law pointed out to me last night).
Dare we imagine ourselves on that bench thirty years hence?
Lovely poems all. Did you really write your own, Michael?
michael
Lyrical added the first stanza from the Simon and Garfunkel song, I added the second and someone else the third.
Fierce Baby
If I could choose a person for my sister to sit on a bench with at 18, or 58, or 70, or 85, it would Ginger.
Ginger
Gorgeous, especially in full view.
lyrical
Old friends,
Old friends
Sat on their park bench
Like bookends.
A newspaper blown though the grass
Falls on the round toes
Of the high shoes
Of the old friends.
michael
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.
seventy
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
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
58
Invert those numbers, and you get 85 (my mother -in-law pointed out to me last night).
Dare we imagine ourselves on that bench thirty years hence?
Lovely poems all. Did you really write your own, Michael?
michael
Lyrical added the first stanza from the Simon and Garfunkel song, I added the second and someone else the third.
Fierce Baby
If I could choose a person for my sister to sit on a bench with at 18, or 58, or 70, or 85, it would Ginger.
Fierce Baby
. . . , it would BE Ginger.