This poem was originally published on 16 May 2015.
I picked myself up, And faced a picture That pointed - back at me, Saying to the child: "Hey, - That's who you're going to be!" I stepped aside, And strapped my watch on, Feeling the binds of time As it clicked into place, For what I feared the final time. So I turned and pocket-ed my pens, Popping a barley travel sweet, And bit my bottom lip To bear the weird throbbing in my hip Bidding the background adieu With a couple, quick, pleasantries. A pile of past identities lay, Strewn across the floor. I guess I have some laundry, I sighed a little more. I picked up the calculator, And stepped under the string lines, "Come on now," I said. It's examination time.