From My Windscreen

If it wasn't for Waze taking me further than I needed
Or the turn in the road and back to find the entrance
If it wasn't for the endless pull in bays, grass verge mounts and slower than reasonable taxi's without decency to wave as I waited patiently for those to pass me by
I wouldn't have been there then. At that exact time.

From my windscreen I saw three people
The sound of gravel faded out as my wheels slowed
An indicator clicking as I prepared my turn right
As the wheels turned, those three people came to light
A mother, a child in arms and a father. A pram not too far.

It's the norm you'll all say. Why raise such a poem for a family from your windscreen?
A double take sends me back as my car takes the turning. Now feet away from me. I'm sure.
My legs start to tremble and I swear out aloud. F* it's her.

Was this the universe answering my request, to see again, once more?
Without photos online or an update to feed.
Here the 'add friend' has gone, now replaced by the elongated 'message' button which just shows where we are but the globe icon is public.
And so I still sometimes scroll to appeal my nostalgia and repent like a blender that's without an off or a power chord wedged to a wall.

There's no proof without evidence but inside I know.
I know it was her and my wish of 'one last time' was fulfilled.
As I backed up the car and stepped onto ground.
It was now just brown hair and their backs from this far.

With no time to speak or a moment to make peace, it was as always like before on that supermarket aisle,
A glimpse of chance that passed on by.

Maybe the turns in the road and my turns of the wheel were always a metaphor for the turns in life that's led us here.
I got a glimpse today, into a family life for you
And my undetected presence from my windscreen protects me like any good fly on the wall ever had.