To time the hours I missed



To time the hours I missed
I woke at 4
and walked to the racetrack.

I watched with binoculars
to compare how the hours ran —
those that knew the jockey’s whip,
those that ran on their own.

The hours the jockeys whipped the most,
barely touched the gravel,
but those that ran without the riding crop
left the clearest prints in time.


						Brandywine
						4/26/200

Previous Poem | Brandywine's Poetry | Next Poem

Send comments to hchang at bway dot net

Copyright ©2000 by Han-hua Chang.