Change

Somewhere around the penultimate hurdle,

as the winding road took a sharp bend,

as the overcast sky revealed a glimmer of sapphire blue

as the throng of cheering crowds became thinner

and even the jeers could not be heard anymore,

as the squirrels in hunts of nuts scurried away

to their abodes inside tree trunks,

as the wilted autumn leaves on the ground

turned a shade of brown that could very well be

the imagined color of blood and sweat,

somewhere around that wretched hurdle,

the shared journey became a race.


Written in response to:

Course: Introduction to Poetry

Prompt: Journey

Style: Simile

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s