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.