She’s Late

Possibilities,
My mind full of,
permutations.

Possibilities,
My mind full of,
Combinations.

Ears Pinned,
Straining for a sound.
The swoosh of wet wheels.
The purr of muffled engine.
Each engine it’s own language,
Each it’s own code.

I hear a grumbling,
Low bass,
Rumbling.
A distant susurration.
It could be an engine…..

I search for definition.
An edge to the note.
A clue of origin.

Wrong chord.
Wrong rhythm.
Too big.
Too fast.
Gone by.
Not stopped.
Not her.
Not Here.