In Passing

In Passing

Whenever someone
That I’ve known
Disappears from view,
I regret our
Recent conversations
Were so few.
And wish I had not
Let the bonds
Of friendship
Slip away.
I wonder if someone
Will think of me
That way some day.

And when I see
An old friend’s
Photo in the news,
The memory of our
Time together
Leaves me with the blues.
It seemed inevitable
That we would drift apart,
And still the separation
Leaves an ache
Upon the heart.

Someone wiser
Than I am
Has quite a
Different view.
She’s grateful for
The time she had
With everyone
She knew.
And she insists
In looking not
So much at what is gone,
But what they had
And how her
Precious memories
Linger on.

Maybe I’ll learn to
Be that way,
In time,
But I don’t know.
I doubt I ever will be
Very good at
Letting go.

  • Jim Hagarty

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 65-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don’t deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather’s blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.

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