The Track Meet Poem by Bill Upton

The Track Meet



Youth has been served
Through years of practice, of struggle, of sacrifice.
It has finally come home for the holidays.
With unyielding faith and uncommon valor,
Your wherewithal to survive hardship and mistakes
Has held you in good stead.
The nose to the grindstone philosophy
Found its way to the victor's circle today.

The pitfalls of youth are land mines,
And we usually don't have access to bomb sniffing dogs.
Somehow we manage to navigate around them.
Over years,
The turn of the calendar page becomes a beacon-
A lighthouse for future direction.

Youth is a sandbox. It is the training wheels on a bike.
It is the necessary precursor and exhibition game for future days.
Dates on the calendar are closer than they seem,
But old age does not roll into town
Until we release the passport.

That being said,
HELLO,60!
Your reputation precedes you,
And from this vantage point,
I may have overestimated you.
Come forward and meet me, you counterfeit bully,
You unfortunate mental cage shaker.
Make sure your bags are packed, your chin strap tight.
Tomorrow we start training together.
You'll need to keep up with me.

Friday, April 17, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: life
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