Old Friends

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 fears

-simon & garfunkel



Whose life have you touched? 
Think really hard.
Maybe you didn't even know it.