As suggested by my previous post, this is a poem I really struggled with. I was thinking and writing but nothing was jarring loose, everything was just staying exactly in its place, carefully locked away. But finally someone said something to me. Just a single feeling that triggered a memory that was more than a flash. A memory I could really hold on to. Of course I still consider it a work in progress and post it with some trepidation. My first poem...

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I wait for you, across the street, waiting for us to walk home

Walked crunch, crunch down the Berber hallway;
Glancing back, eyes pretending not to look.
Stopped to a slow-motion pace watching the door of your classroom
Shuffle, shuffle scuffing along on the soles of my feet.

Ran my finger in the crease between two rows of bricks.
Took a long sip of water from the fountain
Eyes slanted down the hall. Paused,
Longer than I needed to, just let the water flow past my lips
Cool and fresh.
I hate the taste of water, but I drink it because I can, to fill the space between here and
the other side of the road (where I wait for you)

Stepped outside, brightness bearing down
Backpack slapping against my already itching back.
The road is sporadically busy, the cars travel too quickly
I have been crossing this road for years, sometimes with you.
I smiled at the crossing guard, she sort of feels like my friend.

As soon as the tip of my right toe touched the curb
I threw my bag down in the grass, I followed behind it.
Used it as a pillow, thinking of what I want to tell you about my day.
Just laid there in the grass (where I wait for you)

I see you, walking finally, I sit up
I try to pretend you didn't see me as you reverse your steps and duck behind the bus.
They roll away, one by one, but as I stand up to put my backpack on, you aren't there.
Pound, thud. I start pacing a little, I know what happened.

But still I wait for you.

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Do you know what happens in the end of the poem?
What do you think a good title of this poem would be?