Poetry: "Shaking Out"

The burnt toast, the dripping meal,
the morning tucked and rolled;
The slipp'ry ground, the longing feel,
the wakefulness resold;

The staggered seats, the lecture nap,
the forgetting of the need;
The heavy lunch, the spilled-on lap,
the racing thoughts unfreed;

The shadows long, the youthful year,
the timer ticking down;
The wrinkled brow, the constant fear,
the misdirected frown;

The meal is eaten, broken bread,
the sliding fall begun,
now wide awake in dirty clothes,
with darkness fully come.
Accepted truth, uncertain choice,
of time to make it known
Hoping now for proof,
of worry overblown...
Shaky - that's the word.