Race

Race
July 16, 2021
BEAUTY IN THE EYES OF THE BEHOLDER
August 16, 2021

Race

Written by Charles Njikonye

Golden moon— low hanging— glistens on its edge, this nighttime
Souls, speed to catch comets/ invoke wishes to come true; because, in daylight, no comet will be seen— jet.

Lifeline floats like thread in gale— no exact direction
Eyes should fit hope/ not esprit blown like powder from air-dry palms.

Living is race to grave/ 6 feet below.

Horse, man— beautiful
Whilst, death awaits the end of this race.

On this darting skies/ humming tune, living becomes story of how/ what you died.

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