The subtle twitch of an eyelid, again in a moment,
The nostrils breathe but shallow gulps of air
The eyes, alert to any sudden motion or one barely seen
Beads of sweat on the forehead, a blush to the cheeks,
The voice falters in the throat, perhaps stutters,
And a prickly sensation forms on the arms
As each tiny hair stands upward, creating a chill.
The heart beats faster, but lighter, skips a beat,
And the eyes open wider, not to miss any movement.
The legs tense, prepare to jolt upright and run,
And the palms get wet, perhaps a little itchy.
Ears are more alert as all excess movement stops
Awaiting the moment when his name is called to speak.