Author’s Note

Some urgency doesn’t come from the outside.

It builds quietly—over time—until one day it feels like you’ve already waited too long.

This piece starts with something familiar, almost playful. But underneath that rhythm is something more real:

the feeling that staying where you are isn’t neutral—it’s costing you something.

And eventually, that feeling turns into movement.

Not because you’re ready.

But because you can’t afford not to be.

— Rowan Evans

Late for My Escape
Poetry by Rowan Evans

Like the rabbit
running through wonderland—
I’m late…

I’m late.

I’m late
for a very important date—

my escape.

If you’re interested in more poetry, you can find it here → [The Library of Ashes]