Soiled Shackles

Now his voice, an agonizing scream, resounds long, from skyline to skyline, swelling, filling the dome of the sky in his mind, like the impatient pounding of gurgling blood in the vein across his brow of sweat and mud. His shadow, now lengthens down backward across the wet farm lot he's tilling, shriveling down as it traces back to his feet; if only he could outrun his own shadow he would have left it behind long time ago!