The Big Race Is On
Bang! crackles the gun
The big race is on
Arms pump the air
Heads bob everywhere
Legs and feet churn
Elbows angle, turn
Into the first curve
Rabbit-swift, they swerve
Perspiration streaming down
From their chins to the ground
Faces grim, taut and tight
Heel-toe they alight
As the last bend they round
Piston-like legs pound the ground
Then the lunge for the tape
Exhausted, they drape
Their arms o'er each other
Comrades-in-sweat, newly brothers
~ Though only the sprinter who's won
Takes a victory lap when it's done
Copyright © Gershon Wolf | Year Posted 2019
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