Off the cool
Dirt; Short breaths
Escaping into the night,
In wisps; clenched fists swinging,
Tresses flying behind; Quickly—Competition
With stars shot and orange meteors!
Tameless! She triumphs!
Prey bagged, hounds at heels,
She steals toward her moon,
Fierce spirit, and swirls. The sky
Watches, in awe, as the moon glows and
Winks at the stars.
This poem is supposed to be in the shape of a bow and arrow. :)