She’s not coming.
In a flash you realize this
as you gaze out into the depth of night:
you will be alone this dawn
as you were yesterday.
You didn’t notice it then,
but you will feel it now.

She said she’d meet you
but the truth has come
in your flash of revelation
while you stare in the midrange
awaiting here.
She’s not going to arrive.
You’re anticipating nothing at this hour.

Soon you’ll get the notice
that something came up.
Soon you’ll hear that she’s sorry
she couldn’t get away
you can try another day.

You’re glad to hear from her at all.
Sighing, you walk back to the car
and head back home
knowing you will return here
later.