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Pair of poems

Jennifer Claussen

"Hurdle" Tristan Rheingans

The Take-Off

The wind slicing through the loose, light fabric of my uniform

The night sky as opaque as oil,

The stars barely shining through

I grab my block,

My heart racing in its chamber

My breath a shaky cadence

I stride to my lane

The track,

 worn from greatness before me

The small pedals for my feet feel,

just right…

I set my feet,

Ready as ever for the challenge ahead,

The wind seems to stand, 


The starter takes his place,

My heart stops its pace,

The world is frozen,

Stuck in this excruciatingly exciting moment,

And then we’re off



Track Stars


The dark circular rings call my name,

Calling me to fly higher than before,

pushing me to be better than my pregame,

I reach my goals and always want more,


My mind and body pushed the limits,

My lungs are empty and my body sore,

But failure and giving up is off-limits,

Effort and our best is what coach calls for,

All my back-breaking work pays off at meets,

I fly through my eight-hundreds with grace,

I love being there and cheering on the heats,

The art of the chase is where I find my place,


We may not always win first overall,

But we will have pushed ourselves to be great

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