Moments of Waiting

The thermometer lies, a glassy stare,

waiting for answers that linger in air.

I recall my mom, gently swabbing my brow,

“Just hold still, darling, let’s see how.”

The fear of the numbers, the dread of the heat,

how it hung in the balance, no way to cheat.

Fever dreams clutched in a blanket’s fold,

a child’s worries wrapped tight, tales untold.

Now I wait for my friend, anxious and thin,

as the minutes tick on, all doubts rushing in.