In school I thought I had deer feet. So every year in annual sports-meet I would line up with others in short blue skirts, white shirt, white cades shoes without spikes; with ears sharp to three words that would shoot at two feet: get, set, go. All I could see was the big red ribbon held across by two teachers which I had to touch first. I know during the run I would shut all my sense organs except vision. I believed I did really fly. Yet there were taller feet, stronger and faster. I always ended up among the first four or five. However the victory stand gave space to only three. That shiny golden cup with the brown base where your name, class, section, date and the sports – event written on a white card were pasted always eluded me. Always.
Twinkling lights of night
Lies beyond reality
Wish star falls on ground
Posted for dVerse Haibun Monday – Sport hosted by Bjorn
Shared with Poetry Pantry #359 @ Poets United