Race Day
While our friends were reading the odds,
we watched the jockeys trot out the racers.
Why in pairs? A nervous horse needs a friend
to rub and nip from paddock to gate
where it must wait, loaded like a God-fist. Sprung
suddenly into the backfield the pack keeps
tight until the final turn where the body
succumbs to the titanic need of muscle
to be done, and in spite of each rider’s
rush and gad, the group splinters.
How do they feel at the line? One can’t know
but after the stubs are cashed and halved,
each horse is led to the fence
to hose down haunch and withers,
flank and hoof, where the grin-bearing cold water
catches the panting heart off guard.
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