A poem from a couple of years ago, when the only time in the day that I saw my husband was as our cars passed on opposite sides of the highway’s central divide. This year, he’s out of state. Oh for the days when we were close enough for our cars to pass like ships in the night!
I glimpsed you, hurtling through mile one eighty-five
on Valentine’s Day;
you were heading home to our half-fed children,
while I, running late as usual, raced toward the reddening sky,
glancing in my driving mirror.
Incidentally, the children did get fully fed, in the end.