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Just Passing By

 

It was a couple of years ago now when I first called in.

Just passing by on the way home.

A paper, cheese snips to eat in the car, and some wine for later.

And you.

 

Smiling, cheerful, happy … brightening up the end of the day.

It became a habit, even though you weren’t always there.

But good when you were – even though it was just a few words in passing.

 

I used to say to myself … wistfully … if only it was 30 years ago.

I wouldn’t have simply passed on by, but stopped.

And asked if we could talk for longer.

 

But it isn’t then ... it’s now.

So it will always be … just passing by.

 

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