Oh to drive that road again
slowly back home,
after that (ful)filling sob
at the parking of the clinic,
when God said no.

Myself, but different;
everything else the same.
Just slower,
like the wrong setting was on,
and nothing could be done.

And she carries the plastic bag,
and he rides the scooter,
they can't wait to cross the street,
others can't wait to leave it,
but the bus isn't there yet,
just me.