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The JesterThe Jester
The curtain draws, the stage is set,
For the travelling dancer, jester, he's yet,
Prances forth, with confidence full,
And begins his act, all else annulled.
Colours twisting in the air,
You cast a glance, but he's not there.
His limits of skill, the jester meets,
In spirals, back flips, turns and leaps.
He holds the crowd with a paralysing spell,
The children, too, their interest tells,
All are stunned at his daring tricks,
Not seen before, an exotic mix.
His hat adorned with many bells,
Of happy times the sweet sound tells,
A break from hunger, and tiring work,
To see this actor, from task they shirk.
'He has a gift!' is said by one
The cry taken up, none to shun,
The talented performer on his stage,
Gold coins thrown, they are his wage.
The dancer slows, and takes his bow,
A tale to be told, of the jester, long from now.
Nine TimesI saw him nine times.
The first time we were both sitting in the room together, getting ready to take the math test that would determine our placement. I was scatterbrained and throwing things around, trying to find the pencils that I had known I would need but had still just tossed in my purse. He was lounging backwards in his chair, looking for all the world as though he didn’t have a single care in the world, including the upcoming test. It annoyed me, that I was frantic and ready to scream, while someone else could be that relaxed.
I tested out of the class.
I don’t know if he did.
The second time I saw him, it was a few months after I arrived on campus. He was the one rushing and frantic this time, running across the square. He was probably late for class, though I had no way of knowing for sure. I was already lost in my own thoughts and ideas, deciding on my major and convincing people that yes, this is what I really want to do with my life. If they weren
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