My Nemesis waits – looming – imperious…. Frozen breath – fires – my spirit Soars into pulsing thighs – triceps – shoulders Propel my start – sliding – spurs my speed Warm wax tucks in – head to chest – fists to ribs I ride the tracks – trust the line – and fly Over…
The Ball Warrior
Chapter 2: A Polish Year (continued from Tooth-Fairy) The dark boughs of the chestnut trees were almost empty. The desiccated and thorny outer shells of the fruit lay decomposing everywhere and their large leaves littered the large park where Ben and I played a few times a day. By the middle of the month, the…