Finals Week

In such slow motion

we walk along autumn.

The first snowflake amidst rain

flickers before unnoticed death.

We dance by with eyes closed.

We skip, gallop, we trip and give a

day or two of thanks. We lift our heads,

there it is: Finals Week.

Like brushing teeth without water.

Like combing hair with thick fingers.

We plunge in with a mask but no air tanks.

Who knew we could live so long without breath?

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