Sunday, November 9, 2014

A Poem About Running

The cold settled on her nose
Frost crystallized her toes
She slipped through the trees
Hands quaking, like her knees
Hair strewn across her face
Leaping through the brush with grace
Rarely looking at the sun
Sight ahead--starting to run
Branches breaking, twigs did snap
Lightning and a thunder clap
Wicked wind and violent air
She ran from time with all despair
Quickened paces on the dirt
Eyes were filled with fear and hurt
Rain clouds breaking, she looks up
Water, flooding, filled her cup
Overflowing to the brim
She stopped…


Her life was not so dim

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