By Claire McCahan
(2007)
I am running against the blaring wind
that pulls hot tears from my watery eyes.
The rush of air
I gear against my ears,
down my throat.
I want to yell, to scream
Wait!
but my voice is blocked,
stifled by a clear, plastic cover
I cannot cut through.
I push harder
and hear the clock chimes ring
louder and faster
as I try to escape
the blankness
behind me.