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Longtime Morning 

waited for my old friend

on a corner
she looked the same
just a little colder

we spoke of a time
neither of us
could really remember
that made the memory
seem better

saw a flash
in her eye
made me wish
I was still that guy

the night felt familiar
a few drinks
small talk over dinner

we evoked friends
that got lost
in the dead of winter
slipped between
the wood and the splinters

we spoke of a time
neither of us
could completely
remember

as I walked her home
saw a flash
in her eye
made me wish
I was still
that guy

  • A poem by Thomas J. Withee.

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