When the hand speaks

Tyres scream
the bus rapes a waiting tree
a life is changed.

One child collected
mid-week mince defrosted
kettle on.

Sirens howl, phones shout
tarmac weeps
child on trolley silent and still.

Weary mother watching for
a kettle's boil sees the shadow of
a small hand

a grey wraith wafting
in the kettle's steam
under the ticking clock.