My last time
Walking down steps
Of a rickety, yellow home
Leaving shouts and laughter
Behind me
My last time
Walking down steps
Of a home I hated every afternoon
Leaving uncomfortable gray seats
And small children standing up
Jumping at the one bump in the road
As the bus glides over,
Getting closer and closer to home
My last time
Arriving at my street,
Children moving out of aisles
For friends or family to slither by
My last time
Saying "thank you"
To the old man or woman
Who yells at misbehaving fourth graders
Who has a heart of greater strength
Or courage than anybody else
To be a bus driver for young, loud kids
My last time
Walking down steps
Of a rickety, yellow home
That I hated every Tuesday and Friday
My last time
Having a sigh escape my lips
As cold wind blows over me
And I'm left standing alone,
As a rickety, yellow home
Rides away
My last time
Taking steps,
10 more, count breaths
My last time,
Walking to my real home
With sweat dripping down my forehead
And the sound of those walls
Holding me closer
My last time
I don't want to have to say goodbye.
Comments
I felt as if I were right there with you the whole time. Well done!
"June 10th" is this week's featured poem on vtdigger.org, up now in their Life & Culture section. Check it out here! vtdigger.org/life-culture
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