Remembrance of Things Last

So much stuff flies by.
Some pass clearly others blur.
But the strangest out of the blue
was my wife’s address.
Let me explain. I used
to withdraw money from the cash station
with my credit card.
It was 7321.
An uncommon number unless you were me:
a soldier oversees who wrote his sweetheart nightly.
And now she’s gone and I’ve been ill.
About 6 months have passed
and I was desperate for dough.
Had been in the hospital.
Couldn’t think of those cash station numbers.
About 70 odd years ago
when I was oversees and writing love letters nightly
to my wife-to- be while my army buddies were out whoring and getting drunk
I remained faithful as a silly goose.
7321. I got cash!