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April 9, 2014
I read something only yesterday
that made me think of you.
Today I received four photographs;
the writing on the envelope, I knew.
The snaps devoid of people;
one being of a dining table
laid out for Sunday lunch
whilst another had an empty sofa
near a vase with tulips in a bunch.
A third was of a large picture
hanging over a kitchen sink bowl.
The fourth, of course, contained
the window to your soul.
There was nothing written
on the reverse sides,
nor even a letter attached.
But I knew instinctively
you’d read the same article
and thought of me, and the
photo’s despatched.
The feeling was uncanny,
and proved to me once more,
that keeping in touch mentally
is as good as banging on any door.
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