Noticing Love
I stood
with expectant anticipation
looking out toward the field,
waiting for your silhouette
to slide into view.
You walked with purpose,
even back then,
like you were headed
toward something important.
When your eyes would drift up,
noticing me notice you,
the corners of your mouth would rise coyly,
revealing an oft-hidden sensitivity,
and you would wave
a quick, manly wave at me.
Sometimes, companions would meet you
on the street below,
engaging you in conversations,
and your hands would punctuate
your animated tales
as laughter rose on the air.
I would watch you
politely entertain
a few moments longer
before you glanced up
at my window,
extending a handshake,
saying goodbye
to continue your walk
toward me.
Memos from the Middle 