Jammy fingerprints on the passenger seat
door handle, put there in the rush
before the morning bell.
The empty seat, a dead sea between
the child’s mother and the Monday excitement.
The radio is timing out, to the top of the hour
with deals for chocolate and gym memberships
knowing she’d be listening.
The bag rolls over in the back of the 4WD as she turns for home
and stays there.
Still, until the next school run.