I missed posting my poem yesterday, but I did write a poem.
He did not wait. We did not bid farewell. Neither he nor I expected more. No more a presence or voice, A memory, thoughts combined with mine, Wonderings for what might be Never for what could have been. That is past. Dreams pose promises once his, then ours, now mine. Thus do ghosts of those who dreamed before, remain within the realms of now.
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