A tribute to one of my favorite years of English class
(and a variation on Langston Hughes' Theme for English B)
Theme for English 3
I stand at the starting line, knees bent and ready to take off.
A sudden BANG and the onlookers jump,
But we’re already off, racing past a blur of people on the sidelines.
And so the race begins.
I cross the 1630 meter mark first,
Past Carver, Winthrop, and Bradford.
Their faces blend and I leave them behind quickly.
Hawthorne pops up to my right,
His scarlet sweatshirt a beacon among the crowd.
As I pass 1830 meters, I make out Emerson and Thoreau near some trees.
I wave and move on.
At 1890 meters I see Chopin cheering on the side, Allez, allez!
The crowd glares at her for being rude,
But the runners appreciate her words.
As I leave 1920 meters behind me, Fitzgerald finally appears.
He frowns at the crowd, nose wrinkling at their excessive screams.
My pace picks up as I prepare to sprint through the end.
The 1970 meter mark flies past.
I catch Toni Morrison smiling her encouragement at me
Athough I’m sure I look terrible by now,
Face red and sweating from every pore.
Before I know it, my feet cross the 2019 meter mark.
My legs are numb, lungs are burning,
But it’s been an amazing race.