National Car Test
By Lyn Hagin Meade
Car tests, The leaving cert all over again But I forgot to study And the wrong questions came up.
My stomach churns as I sit behind the glass Like in the maternity nursery Seeking out my baby “Yes, that’s mine there – the silver one” Being rocked too and fro ten feet in the air.
A frowning mechanic, intent on calibrating figures Makes me nervous Is it terminal? “What’s your registration” he asks, And I can’t remember in my agitation. Waiting for the results Is like scratching a lottery ticket.
I sit in the car and shake afterwards. Passed for this year.
The woman I sat beside earlier Goes by my window and we don’t acknowledge Each other. Our mutual support group Was fleeting For the length of time it took to certify I can spend another year on the road.
Copyright © 2018 Lyn Hagin Meade, All Rights Reserved.