I saw you every day.
You'd walk in five minutes late,
hang up your coat,
and join us in morning meeting
I always saved a chair for you,
Even if you didn't take it.
I'd sit far away from you during writing,
Sneaking peeks in the middle of phrases,
Stopping sentences to look at you.
Then you'd head off to class,
The tragedy of Romeo and Juliet, different grades.
The next time I'd see you was lunch,
laughing in the sunshine
Or smiling through the winter cold.
I'd eat my lunch, silent before your glory,
Not knowing what more I could say than,
"You're fun, you're cool, you're amazing."
After lunch is more the same, until the end of the day.
The roar of the bus calls me,
And I must go.
One last time I see you, on my way out the door.
I would give you a hug,
If I dared be so bold.
Maybe even hold your hand,
Swing it back and forth like we were 6 again,
Back on the playground where we first met.
Or maybe I'd do the secret handshake we made up when we were ten,
meeting for the second time.
Or maybe even kiss your forehead,
Like you do when we're alone in your room.
But I do none of those things,
Just wave and head off,