The Race

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #177

Words:  dismal, meandering, edge, thrust, ball, rose, locks, spot, bullets, plant, horses, signal

The horses thrust their bodies,
on edge at the starting gate,
feet planted,
awaiting the signal.
“They’re off!”
Owners sweat bullets;
no horse has
a lock on the win.

Rain threatens
this dismal day,
but no one notices.

Spot on is out in front,
looking good,
followed by Diamond Deb,
and Ollie Boy in third.
Around the stretch,
the track meanders,
bettors rise
on the balls
of their feet,
binoculars trained.

Ollie Boy is gaining.
Then, a burst
of speed. Diamond Deb
is ahead. She overtakes
Spot On. Here they come!
And the winner is Diamond Deb
by a hoof.

About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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4 Responses to The Race

  1. whimsygizmo says:

    Well done, Sara. I felt the tension here, and the victory. 🙂


  2. tmhHoover says:

    Hey there- I love that you found away around the word dismal and created some excitement. Great write! xo Teri

    Liked by 1 person

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