If there were mistletoe
Hanging  concealed
On a hidden ledge  perhaps
Would we have walked on without a word?

Or would something more
Have been revealed
In that momentary lapse
That lies still now, in snow interred

As you mixed up your ‘b’s and ‘d’s
Not so long ago
I saw you wistfully look at me
Hoping I would know

Lonely road
You call out to me,
White strips on black tar
Dashes merging into a smooth line.
Blurred images from a car.