by David Feela
No chance for the gold
he settles for the white,
a medal of no distinction
awarded for not finishing
anything. He lugs
his blanket to the park
and unrolls it like
a toboggan on a hill
then climbs aboard
and shouts, Here I come,
won’t somebody
please stop me?
David Feela's work has appeared in regional and national publications. He is a contributing editor and columnist for Inside/Outside Southwest and for The Four Corners Free Press. His first full length poetry book, The Home Atlas, is now available.
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