Friday, May 11, 2012

Track Meet

Running
 
 
The gun fires,
a distant shot slicing 
through
the heat.
 
And I am of,
racing down the scarlet track
sun beating down on
my shoulders.
 
Breathe.
Find a groove.
Stick with it.
Breathe.
 
I am in a stadium of 
noisy people
but right now
I am alone.
 
One lap down
and it's 
hard to 
breathe.
 
Half a lap to
go, 
and my legs
scream.
 
But I keep going,
heading towards the
orange tape,
Breathe.
 
I come in fourth.
The fastest I have
ever
run.

Breathe.