Friday, January 26, 2024

17 Years plus

Every day for seventeen years,  
I have thought of you.
Every day.
Perhaps briefly at times, 
perhaps not.
Not sure the triggers.
When I'm tired, I suppose,
in the evening like now.
Often because of a song,
classic Santana or The Doors.
Most likely though 
The Stones "Miss You."

Sometimes I find myself singing in my head
more contemporary songs,
"Cause she's so high
high above me..." 
or maybe
that Amy Winehouse song with your name.
Silly, I know.

But if sometimes I don't write,
it is not because I've forgotten.
It's just that
I know your time is precious.




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