I remember how you smiled at me at my Medicare Presentation.
And days later I saw you at the senior center and you smiled at me again.
I waved at you wondering what was behind that beautiful smile.
How I wish I’d gotten to know the you behind that smile,
The most beautiful smile I’d ever seen.
I suspect the inner you was far more beautiful.
But, alas, ships passed, never will I know
All the wonderful, loving treasures inside of you.
I never even knew your name, and I know I’ll never see you again.
Now you’re just a sweet memory in this repressed romantic’s imagination
Thinking about another one of those maybes that might have been.
And, ah me, my life has become like a walking soap opera.
Bob Boyd
Author: BobBoyd
Age 80. Cancer survivor since 3 years ago. Work out 3 times a week. Ride my exercise bike 2 hours a day. Live a solo reclusive life. Retired a year ago from working with the elderly in a nonprofit. Started writing poetry a little over a year ago; most poems I write are fictional but some are not. Spiritual with a permanent spiritual experience. Write poems on many subjects. Always researching for many of my poems and because of my unquenchable thirst for knowledge. After reading and hearing about many near death experiences and death bed visions, I believe death is the ultimate awakening and the relocation of a lifetime. You may believe differently, but you have the right to be wrong -- I'm just messing with you. :-)
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