A Game Of Chase

• Gloria Gong, Grade 8
• Poetry
• 2018

Her dress flutters in the breeze like a heart of a young girl in love,
Her eyes sparkle with mischief, begging you to pursue her.
Her hands are small, a pair that show no wrinkles or hard work,
Her feet petite, intangible things of a pearly colour hidden by the dress.
Some strive after her desperately, as fast as they can.
They know that her beauty will not last forever.
The winners of the game, they will be.
Some wander leisurely behind her disappearing delicate figure,
Thinking she is not too far away, that they can chase later.
The losers of the game, they will be.
You may call out to her, “Time! Wait for me!”
But Time will not wait. She never has and she never will.
A silly wink, a quick smile, an angelic giggle. She’s off again.