finding old loves again

as i reached out

the window,

while my car idled beneath

the overhang

of the highway,

a toll booth, on 95,

in the lane for inexact

change,

i handed my twenty dollar

bill to a woman

in uniform.

she had rosy cheeks

and curly

red hair, now dyed,

freckles. a gap between

her teeth.

i looked at her and she

looked at me.

i remembered her from the schoolyard

at St. Thomas More.

when we kissed once

near the stairway to the parish door,

just once,

under the harsh

blue sky,

in the wind of March.

i moved on

before she said a word.