The Race (by Michelle Bryce)

The Race

A warm fire is waiting just up the hill.
I can finish this now, it's a matter of will.
A much bigger fire, the one in the sky,
Peers over the horizon, like a bloodshot eye.
The rest of the world lies warm in bed.
One neighbor drives by and just shakes her head.
Canadian geese on a journey like me,
Cut through the wind with their lopsided V.
I breathe out smoke that's hurled back in my face,
The wind's challenge to me to slacken my pace.
I can see my driveway,so close yet so far.
I'll start to sprint when I pass that red car.
Another fire kindles as my lungs scream for air.
I can't slow down now, I'm almost there.

As I reach my goal, start to walk, check my time,
I stop to watch the sun's colorful climb.
Then I head for the door and smile satisfied.
Old man winter didn't keep me inside.
And I think of the war that rages within
Of the life and death race I'm determined to win.
The road is narrow, but the goal is clear.
I can't slow down now, He's almost here!