observing that the park had changed so little, i had the following poem running through my head :

as the mist leaves no scar
on the dark green hill,
so my body leaves no scar
on you, nor ever will.

when wind and hawk encounter,
what remains to keep?
so you and i encounter,
then turn, then fall to sleep.

as many nights endure
without a moon or star,
so will we endure
when one is gone and far.

--leonard cohen, "as the mist leaves no scar" (1961).