Moved by a memory of yearnings begun long ago;
Actions all hopeless back then, I was too young to know;
Retrospect fills my mind now, with a subsequent scan;
Geared to look deeper than days when I gave up and ran.
Artistic handwriting lives in an old Christmas card.
Reading those words anew catches me fully off guard.
Even today, I could not know for sure what they mean.
That throws new light on what played out in many a scene.
By and by, other old cards, on which she once would write,
Leave me with thoughts that I missed something there in plain sight.
After so long of assuming it just wasn't fate,
Could she be someone whom I'd find a way to locate?
Kissing comes second to knowing her heart's hidden state.