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Showing posts from March 31, 2012

Old Friends

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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 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 I spend quite a bit of time in the car.  Driving from one appointment to another can take hours.  To pass the time I like to listen to music, a bit of talk radio, but most of all I like to talk with my mom in California.  For some reason, having a chat with mom is the perfect way to finish off a long day.  It kind of reminds me of being a little kid, sitting at the kitchen table, pretending to do homework and rambling on as mom cleaned up after dinner.  In those days the conversation was