Though I never knew you,
coming home for lunch from work
sometimes I saw you walking,
dressed elegantly,
I think in your late sixties
or early seventies,
and despite your many years,
you still looked beautiful.
Ten years later, after I returned
from the Philippines,
I saw you once more, sadly,
most of your beauty was gone,
and I worried you wouldn’t
live much longer.
I never saw you after that:
I fear you are dead.
If only, if only, I could have
gotten to know you.
Bob Boyd