Late

The school parking lot 

is deserted -

not a car, 

bike, 

teacher or child
to be seen. 

Except her. 
  A hunched form 

huddled 

behind the planter, 

shadowed and forlorn.

 My daughter
whom I've kept
waiting.

 

I roll to the curb.
She gets in
without a word
and we drive
to the ice cream shop.

  We share
a Chocolate Chip
apology.