Poem for the Race

napo2013button2I don’t really have the right words for what took place in Boston. I know I have not come close to expressing the horror we all feel at the tragic attack. My brother, Norm, and I are relieved to know that our own relatives in Boston are safe. Our thoughts and prayers go out to all those who have suffered as a result of this terrible event.


They prepare for the pressure of the long-distance race,
the hours of running, sweat and dehydration.
They run in heat, rain, the early spring dregs of snow,
legs pumping, muscles screaming as they suffer.

Race day arrives in a crowd of runners, each
jostling and scrambling for the best position.
At the start, anticipation tingles nerves, and then
they’re running. Hours later the winners will
cross the line, see their time, know whether
their suffering was worth the pain.

Unnoticed in the crowd, someone will plant a bomb.
There are monsters in Boston today.

Carol A. Stephen
April 17, 2013

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