Bus Stop Memories

A lone walk,
Filling my lungs with fresh air,
Checking the clock,
Who will be there?

Rounding the corner with anticipation,
The small group,
Sudden trepidation,
Deep breath to regroup.

Some friends,
Some not,
Some doing backbends,
Some not.

Air is filled with chatter,
An odd silence overtakes,
On the ground backpacks are scattered,
Fog hangs over the lake.

Yellow and black in the distance,
Wes guiding the wheels on the bumpy road,
Flashing lights and squeaking brakes interrupt the silence,
Doors open and student faces fill the empty windows.