My coffee is cold from sitting, as I stare.
A windowless night, streaks of white and red tail lights.
The cars drive by.

She will be here soon.
Entrance to the world.
We are waiting, to greet her, meet her, care for her, love her.

Not long ago, we waited for him.
Wide eyed, pure joy.
Someone stole the clock. Forced time forward.

It is the edge of November.