Keepsake
KEEPSAKE
I still have that wallet you gave to me,
All those years ago in seventy-three.
I used it daily, till it fell apart,
In my inside pocket, close to my heart.
And the tiny photo you put in there,
With your gentle smile and your flowing hair,
Is still tucked inside, though it fades each day,
Like the hopes I had till you walked away.
I wonder if somewhere, hidden from view,
You still keep that locket I gave to you.
Copyright © Bryn Strudwick | Year Posted 2023
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