Small things out of order,
A failure of certainty:
Waiting among the silent
Wondering
-- Did I miss it? --
Unable
To voice the confusion
If the bus did not come.
Comfortless rain-soaked world
Huddling hunched as delay
Stretching, knowing another comes
But
Under it
-- What if it, too, does not come? --
The wondering: of questions
Without answers remain questions.
Single, not a double. Not normal.
Perhaps the last bus passed that way,
Eyes skipping over; or perhaps late.
No answer is given,
No, but --
No question is asked.
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