I can’t keep up with my own life
let alone the lives of those around me
The lives of those who love me
and God forbid
of those I love
Without meaning to
my life has become the image that
haunted me in my wide-eyed post-adolescence
Of the Tanzanian marathoner
John Stephen Akhwari
who finished last in Mexico City in 1968
Yeah
just YouTube it
The point is
I want to grab onto life
hold on for all I’m barely worth
Or run
with endurance
and the speed
not just to finish
but to win
Yet on days like this
and most others
it is all I can do to look at life like a
bandaged
limping man
sweat-drenched and bloody
shuffling in the dark towards the finish of a race
long over
but not for himself
Who
when asked why he did not quit a race
long-lost
said
“My country did not send me five-thousand miles to start the race. My country sent me five-thousand miles to finish the race.”
And so
I look up
into the near-empty stadium
and to a victor’s stand
long since abandoned by those with medals won
and put one more foot in front of one more other
This race almost done
Copyright © 2015 William S. Friday