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The Race

by George Hoerner

it is summer
and a wind
spreads flame
across forests
like napalm
chases children
from hiding
faster than
a father
with a stick

licking flames
win the race
while the
human race
descends
into Hell

in the long
run of life
it is war
that both
wins and
loses
the race

12/20/2011

Posted on 12/20/2011
Copyright © 2024 George Hoerner

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Linda Fuller on 12/20/11 at 08:40 PM

Our race may well be losing (or winning) the race to extinction; 'to every thing there is a season' and perhaps ours is waning. Good write, George - thanks.

Posted by Lori Blair on 12/26/11 at 04:35 AM

Reality is sad, and so unfair to us, perhaps one day we will understand it better. Knowledge is what we lack but there is much wisdom within us all to grasp. Heartfelt especially considering such troubling times..Thank you!

Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 12/26/11 at 05:06 PM

That last stanza is very thought provoking, as is the thought of life being a race. Serious stuff, George. Thank you.

Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 01/23/12 at 06:39 PM

a wonderful work, my friend. I think everything animate or inanimate has been blessed or infected with a duality of nature., and war is no different. Such things as War or Peace or Indifference cannot claim utter victory for themselves and as such, such spoils are always tainted with a sense of loss, of a kind that disturbs the soul and conscience.

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