Poem #15 of 365: Hurdles

I smell smoke!

I stop, 

I drop, 

I roll,

I train. 

I smell smoke!

. . . from the gun

I run,

I flee,

I jump,

I escape.

I smell smoke!

. . .from the gun--

bullet in the air!

Trying to alert me.

I think too much

about children dying,

mothers crying,

fathers denying

their newborns. 

I think too much 

about you

and  I die from waiting.