This is a poem. No need to write a full review. I'd like to hear your thoughts though.

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.