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, Focusing the mind. Racers move,Continue reading “SATURDAY MORNING by Nick Arndt”
THE FLOW STATE 