The Last Glimpse

I am leaning against a tree.
He is standing against the wall.
I see him through the glass.
He is speaking to someone on call.

I try to hold my blink,
To not to miss his smile.
But the way he shines
Is enough to make me blind.

I take a final glimpse,
And store it in my mind.
One last image of his,
For a memory, I can call mine.

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