I walk the stagger to my line;
uneasy and anxious, I do not show it.
They jump and stretch and jog in place.
Once at the line I do not move.
“Runners, take your mark”
Toes to the line, this is it.
Seconds take forever; I await the crack.
Time goes uncounted
if not for the steady beat of my heart.
The lane I stand is all that is me.
At this moment track is life.
And life is simple.
Bang.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem