She used to tell me things
maybe of no significance
like on her wasy to work
she’d angle the tail 
of the mustang
on her steering wheel
up or down
to signal her mood.

Who else would know that
about her?
And why now
after all these years
do I remember this?
This tiny detail
either does or doesn’t
make a difference
but its another layer of knowledge–
the dailyness
of what we can know
of the mind of another.