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
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.