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September the Sixth


Your bag casually slung on your shoulder
Your legs encased in shorts
And feet in strapped sandals
On September the Sixth
You walked jauntily along Thu Le lake
In the shadow of my looming hotel
Lightly traipsing, a lightness in your gait
The joy of acceptance and success
At the prospect of entering your chosen portals.
Then I came along from nowhere,
And was not going anywhere,
Till you passed me
And then stopped
And whirled around to face me
Your face wreathed in an unforgettable smile,
On September the Sixth that year.
And that is how our story began
A story that is now ending,
As it would have some day
Some September, or March, or whenever.