Written in Response to the Approaching End of a Season amid an Attempt at #NaPoWriMo

The last few dozen yards beckon,
And though my legs are grown heavy
And my breath is raggedly in and out,
Still, I swallow and start to sprint,
Knowing that once I break the tape,
I can rest a while before the next event

You get that it’s not really about running, right?
Photo by Lukas Hartmann on Pexels.com

The days and months pass, but poetry endures; commission your work today!

Go back

Your message has been sent

Warning
Warning
Warning
Warning.

Or you can send your support along directly!

Leave a comment