Poem Twenty-three - Waiting

She pours my coffee with a practiced ease,
Asks if there will be anything else.
I say no, thank you, and
As there are few customers
In the truck stop diner,
I ask her if she's in school.
Just making conversation,
As she looks to be young.
Her eyes dart away, and she says, no,
I can't afford to go right now,
But I did finish high school.
I'm waiting, she says, to be able to go.
Waiting till my baby's in school.
Baby? I ask, and she smiles.
He's one year old tomorrow.
What about his father? I ask,
And her face darkens.
Gone, she said.
I'm waiting; he might be back.
I paid the check, adding more money
Than I usually would.
I knew, if she didn't,
That she might wait forever.