Give Them the Flowers Now Closed eyes can't see the white roses. Cold hands can't hold them, you know. Breath that is stilled cannot gather the odors that sweet from them blow. Death with a peace beyond dreaming, its children of earth doth endow. LIFE is the time we can help them, so give them the flowers NOW! HERE are the struggles and strivings. HERE are the cares and the tears. NOW is the time to be smoothing the frowns and the furrows and fears. What, to closed ears, are kind sayings? What, to hushed heart, is deep vow? Naught can avail AFTER parting, so give them the flowers NOW! - Author unknown

Old Friends/Bookends 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 70. 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. - Paul Simon & Art Garfunkel