Alexander Garr

Alexander Garr Poems

The landscape speeds past as
I run from my pursuers.
The pounding of the horse’s hooves
Thunder against the hard-packed earth,
...

You know that feeling
When you’re running
And you take that step
That feels like you’re riding
...

A gaggle of seals sits
On the rocky outcrops of a tiny island.
They yell and bark to each other,
Communicating their thoughts in a language
...

Alexander Garr Biography

Hi, my name's Alex Garr. I graduated from Walpole HIgh School in 2010 and will be attending Bridgewater State University this coming fall. I will major in History and minor in Secondary Education in hopes of becoming a history teacher for ancient history. I took a creative writing class in my senior year of high school where we wrote numerous poems, a few of which I've submitted here. I write poems whenever the urge strikes me, and I hope to continue writing poems for as long as possible. I have also tried my hand at writing a number of novel-length stories. I am still in the process of writing these and hope to one day get them published if I ever finish them.)

The Best Poem Of Alexander Garr

Fugitive

The landscape speeds past as
I run from my pursuers.
The pounding of the horse’s hooves
Thunder against the hard-packed earth,
Kicking up dust in its wake.
I glance over my shoulder
And see a pair of Golden eyes through the trees
That I know is the lanterns held by my pursuers.
Faintly, I see the Black silhouettes of the riders
Against the stark White of the Moon.
I turn back around—
Thwack!

The sound of wood on skin
Seems to resonate through the forest.
I lurch in my saddle,
Reeling away from the unexpected branch.

But then comes another right behind the first,
A forest of groping hands trying to pull me from my saddle.
I swat at the branches with one hand
While desperately trying to hold on to the reins with the other.
I can hear the clop clop of the pursuers now,
They’re close.
I want to look back but can’t,
Or else the trees’ hands will have me in their grasp.

But the pursuers are riding hunting horses bred to run,
While I have a young filly now well-lathered.
The lead man gallops up and takes the reins from my hands
And I know it’s over.
Now I’ll be brought back to the home I left,
To live a life that I did not choose.

Now I will never be able to leave again.
Now I will be watched for the rest of forever.
I guess I should have seen this coming.

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