Half Empty

I've heard it said there's no such thing
as coincidence, unless the truck
from Inverness passing you going
the other way four miles south
of Leeds at one-ten this afternoon
was one, every bit as incredible
as another hitting an oil-slick and slithering
into what would have been your path
had you been delayed by having to go
back in to check the house-lights.

Some things can't happen but still do,
like driving home in fading light
to an atmospheric rendering of 1492*
on air, then at a random petrol stop
...