. . . .into a poem!

The scanner beeps. 
We hurry through
 the doorway, scanning 
the burgundy-colored 
carpeted aisles 
with our eyes for a
 place to sit in the maze 
of occupied and open seats, 
teeth and fillings 
belonging to one giant,
 gaping mouth. 

The chapel is alive; 
students push their way 
through the aisles dividing 
the rows of seats
 like blood pulsing 
through arteries. 
Each wave that finds their seats
 is replaced
 with a new, busy cluster.