On Time

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She woke to windy winter storm in spring.
She window-watched the weather as she dressed.
The sky stopped streaming long enough to bring
the dog outside, reluctantly at best.

And still the looming clouds held back their freight
of cold precipitation while she walked
her son to school, and heard his running hate;
of rainy day alternatives he talked.

Agreeing, then, to hope for morning rain,
she left her son and started on the mile
between the schoolyard and commuter train,
and how the clouds then opened made her smile,
especially when she arrived to find
her ride approaching, and her timing kind.

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