Doze

D for 200 Project

Tuesday the following night.
The sun was out and tall.
Last row, third seat from the right,
just enough to the side from the wall.
Slow hot wind from the ceiling fan.
The damp air of a crowded room.
No elbow room. Adjacent seats.
Narrow spaces between feet.
I leaned back on the wooden chair.
I leaned back, out the windows i stare.
To remember the time i used to have.
Places i can be.
People i can see.
To think of time and the energy spent.
Much like the birds they all went.
The silent trees.
The buzzing bees.
Too close.
I doze.

The man was up, sat right in front
Skimming pages, paramount
The privilege to not kneel down to the rules is just at reach for any heads willing to turn for a glimpse of hope.
The heat, the clock’s hand ticking hard knocks on woods.
The tingling sense of fear tears down all roots.
They can not cope.
Flashing words and random sentences, in mid air they blurred.
Regretting the untying knots that’s never been safely secured.
Never too tight. Not easily loose.
Blood pumps and sweat drops fuse.
A peek. A sneak.
Anything that leaks.
Some reach the peaks.
Some stare the blanks.
They froze.
Any which way, they chose.
I doze.