The old man turned back to give one last smile
And he raised his mug in a greeting stopping in the aisle
And I remember the days when I first met him
Learning to have that yellow cup filled to the lid

He throws back the last “sweetheart” he will probably ever call me
And I tell him to “drive safe”, “be careful”, and a sad “see you maybe”
The way his eyes lit up when I told him that I was finally
Moving onto bigger and better things

Three years, three jobs, two cities, two names
And every ‘by chance’ meeting punctuated with a wave
And the old man says he knows “ill be great”
And I smile bitterly as we go our separate ways

Roger, you give me hope.
In our small interactions
That things will be ok
Because even when things change
Some people always stay the same

Coffee.
eight cream, no sugar
Hi sweetheart, it's been a while