On the Seventh Day

I saw you at the store on Monday.

Your basket filled with produce.

On Tuesday you were sitting in the park.

A book resting on your bare knees.

Wednesday you strolled by the cafe.

A flip-flop almost falling off.

On Thursday I bumped into you while getting coffee.

Your only concern was the double-mocha latte.

Friday night I caught your glance.

The barkeeper just looked at me askance.

Saturday you were jogging past.

Ear-buds full blast.

On the seventh day I filled with courage.

You checked your mail and I said hello.

Biblical, no.

Happily ever after, maybe so.

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