The Exchange

February 26, 2018
By OldSoul1776 GOLD, Hartland, Wisconsin
OldSoul1776 GOLD, Hartland, Wisconsin
17 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Snow beats, muscles tighten. 
My sight blurs, my jaw chatters. 
I see the golden object approach. 
I scurry and start to sprint. 


He yells, “stick!” I reach my hand back, 
take it, and begin my race. 

The author's comments:

This is a SIJO poem. 

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This article has 1 comment.

Poetgirl1 GOLD said...
on Feb. 28 at 8:18 am
Poetgirl1 GOLD, Conneaut Lake, Pennsylvania
17 articles 0 photos 10 comments
To me this poem has a double meaning and I love it. It has to do with running a relay race but to me I feel like it also has to do with running the race of life. Keep up the good work.

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