To Soar and To Fly
(like Emily Dickinson)
It moves so swiftly through the air
It must feel so good to be up there
Running through the trees
I do not dare
But the urge to stare
Takes me over there.
I wonder why
I want to be so high
Like an eagle up in the sky.
Voices
(like Walt Whitman)
I hear the swim meet voices, the varied sounds I hear
The splash of a kick, strong and fast
The beep of the start, sudden yet predictable
The cheers of the parents, always present
The “Pull, pull, go, go!” of the coach
The “Yes, I did it,” a feeling of pride
The “Great job,” always motivating
Many energized voices, all at one time
That’s the way the meet goes.
The meet, the mirror of life.
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