The Sprint

Alexi Pappas beautifully captures the essence of running fast in her latest poem.

Photo: Jeremy Teicher

The Sprint

When I sprint

my insides

are not all there


they are instead gasping

screeching flapping


baby bird beaks


who beg cry


brave and scared


I seek worms in the form of air.

More poetry from Alexi Pappas
Tying And Retying Running Shoes
Running When It Is About To Rain
The Magic Of Winter Running