The Exam (Poem)

A steady heart moves beneath skin, uncertain,

as leaves flutter like butterflies, beyond

in a world that exists, unaware of uncertainty.

Does the grass and sky have the right to know?

Hands are cold, not warm, they are ice

pressed together like strangers,

how uncomfortable they feel, how foreign!

Toes tap carpet; a silent orchestra hums

To the great clock on the wall,

that beast of miserable staccato,

where all eyes flicker, occasionally;

where all hearts wait, nervous, ready

It is time, a voice drifts like a wave,

down over heads, into thought;

we move as one, a movement,

anticipation rattles on our breath,

The hall echoes as our feet trample

across wood and scratches, so

we smell ink in this room and

unanswered questions

The tables are desks, our legs

touch cold metal and we wince,

as we sit, quietly, breathing

on heated air, on familiar territory.

She’s there, now, ahead,

her lips drawn like curtains

the clock ticks and they open.

The exam has started.



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