The Race

Miles of open road and trails have been tread upon
Ascending hills with aching calves
Descending the other side as a stone sinking to the ocean floor
Hours you've spent preparing for this moment, though you're sure of yourself,
Just as sure as the sun burns hot, the knots inside your stomach grip you like a predator feasting on its prey.
The sound around you drowned out by the exhilarating beat of your heart.
You kneel down. A man of intense focus and sheer will.
Suddenly after what seems an eternity the gun is fired.
As an eagle soaring from its nest high above the plain, you're gone. The race is on.
Soon enough the knots in your stomach are replaced by a euphoric rush.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem