I give my students a quiz and they fall to the bottom of a green
hole where answers might grow anywhere.

One student looks at me. Another stares out the window, where it
is greener, a wild flowering. Some cast their hope toward the door.
What they should know wraps the room like fingerless hands
choking the air.

When I took quizzes myself, I too kept my eyes where I wanted the
answer to be. I watched my hand and I learned

that a quiz is a way of looking inside oneself. A way to practice
what action to take if you find nothing there.