Wednesday, 8 July 2009
I am underdog despite my 43 lengths
so far this morning and it seems my age
is holding me back. I cannot keep a straight line to myself
and no allowances are made for any mis-timing.
The only place I am alone is when I brave the front-crawler
whose arms boom at different pitches to each other
with every steady stroke. His journey is the bass-line of our orchestra,
straight and uncomfortable. The beats pound my heart
and I earn my first looks of acknowledgement
though it is hard to catch them with eyes
stinging from the backsplash.