SATURDAY MORNING by Nick Arndt

Saturday morning, Midnight black crows high, soaring, Echoing battle.   The sun is shining, Scarlet leaves, from oaks, falling, Binding battleground.   Complete town flocking, Hourly-groomed ground shaking, Fitting the moment.   Critics babbling, Reporters interviewing, Holding pens, notebooks.   Runners propelling, Death-bitten faces drooping, Revealing hard work.   Muscles contracting, Precious, salty sweat leaving,Continue reading “SATURDAY MORNING by Nick Arndt”