We plot until the sun
is too high to ignore
and work is unavoidable.
As I run through the city streets,
I continue to dream.
I allow myself secret,
poisonous,
fantasies:
lining up at the starting line.
winning the first race.
I indulge myself,
knowing that daydreams
may be as close as I get.
I will enjoy them while
they remain unlikely possibilities.
Even though the sky soars through my veins,
I do love to run.
I like the rhythm,
the steadiness,
the beat of my feet
as they hit the ground,
the exhaustion.
Most of all the exhaustion.
Since my mother's death, I only
sleep on days I've spent running.
YOU ARE READING
On Sapphire Wings
FantasyA fantasy novel told in free verse. Gwen runs through the streets of Alaria but dreams of soaring through its skies. Her mother's tragic death while Iryss racing sees her ambition grounded by her overprotective father. But the biannual Iryss races...
