Each time, it was the “last goodbye” …
that slight wave as we drove away,
the talk all “done with” now,
your sense of something to get back to.
And now, at 92, it’s happened.
The smile I souvenired on leaving
just two neat weeks ago
Each time, it was the “last goodbye” …
that slight wave as we drove away,
the talk all “done with” now,
your sense of something to get back to.
And now, at 92, it’s happened.
The smile I souvenired on leaving
just two neat weeks ago
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