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Racing, A Story PoemCategory: poems
Wednesday, 31 March 2010
04:43:51 PM (GMT)
The clock ticks Fast, too fast She sweats, and looks up Every now and then The tool Moving back and fourth In her hand Fast Unsure. She sits. She sweats. The clock ticks Slowly, surely He smiles, and looks up At her His hands Empty Cool Calm Collected. He sits. He smiles. The clock ticks Fast, sure Their eyes meet His, suddenly unceartain Hers, suddenly bright Her hands are empty He looks down at his Now He's not so calm He picks up his tool. He sits. He sweats. She sits. She smiles. The clock ticks It final tick The leader Says stop She grins And stands up He grimaces And puts his head down He's lost, And she won He's sure of it. They sit Waiting To see How they've done. She sits. She is still. He sits. He is still. Finally The clock starts ticking again He can breathe The leader Shows her Shows him She gasps Shocked He looks at her She stares back He looks down At his And cannot believe his eyes He looks up again He smirks Her eyes shine With unshed tears With a cry of regret She throws it down And runs away. She runs. She cries. He sits. He smiles. The race is over. ~H.K.~

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