The Last Race Home Poem by james watkin
The Last Race Home
Time in youth, an excitation.
More intense hereon ran out.
One street's length of fuse, sent hissing
Under two boy's feet. No missing
The victor's explosive shout!
In dueling games sun's last flashed up.
Friendship's old guage, defiance!
Which spluttering dimmer, down
Heard cut short. Walks' gasping truce does crown
The cooling lamp-lit distance.
Saturday, April 13, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: childhood ,friendship
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9/14/2025 5:56:32 AM # 1.0.0
