The Great Escape

May 8, 2009
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He slinks across the
room, slim body crouched low.
His eyes are wide, dilated.
full of focus.

He flies across the
road, faster then the speed of light.
His eyes are wide, dilated,
full of panic.

His hair, deep orange in a sunset,
is slicked back for more aerodynamics.
His muscles tense and he is still,
like the calm before the storm.

His hair is as black as jet fuel:
It’s tousled and unkempt.
His muscles tense and he is still;
He can see his demise.

Molten lava eyes watch his prey.
It sits, unaware of the danger
that lurks behind the discarded tennis shoe.
A single twitch of the prey starts the frenzy.

He slams his breaks to avoid a rabbit crossing the road.
It sits, unaware of the danger,
while he swerves.
Fear, the only emotion.

A flash of orange!
Tufts of hair fly in various directions,
like tumbleweeds across a raging desert.
He pants from the heat of the fight.

He missed the rabbit!
But his car slips into a pothole and it flips,
like tumbleweeds across a raging desert.
All is still as the car molds itself around a telephone pole and stops.

Mouth open wide, blood on the hair around his lips;
he pauses, a low hiss.
Only to realize--in the end--
that during the eye of the hurricane,

Mouth agape, blood oozing from multiple cuts,
he pauses, a low hiss of pain.
As he looks out the window with blurry vision he realizes
that during his avoidance of the hare,

his almost victim escaped.

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