The Exam Season

There’s never just four seasons in this day and age,
You feel it in your bones come that first day,
Of exams and tests and standardising standards,
The nauseous buzz, the anxious chatter the butterflies a flutter,
For one and all who’ve ever been through the big exam door.

Now clock is ticking from the moment they awake
The forced-down breakfast, the vitamin pills – not wanting to be late
Double checking pencil cases; final ticks and checks,
And even when on the bus, in the car or walking up-to school,
That feeling of true dread, blank minds it’s a sort of thrill.

Now I’m sitting watching this fine frenzy all go by,
I’m flicking back in my own mind to exams times in the past,
The caffeine shots, the buzzing lights of libraries after dark,
The smell of grass and spring flowers when studying in the park,
The sense of how it all was new and how it always was.

Although I’m glad that I’m not there going through that door,
Or sitting in exams halls or pouring over books,
I’m taken back to a time when life was all so simple,
I knew so much, read so much with so much yet to know,
I know now all at once what I never knew back then.