Streamline

I am not a patient person, so it is not surprising that I am bailing on the serial poetry idea for "Streamline." I am posting the entire thing, here and now. Unless a poem is a work in progress, I will post it in its entirety, from now on.

Streamline:

Time helps find the rhythm, then rhythm
helps the time…

Starting block.
Take your mark.
On the clock
each second waits
to tic its time until the sound
of the gun.

Water churns.
Muscles burn.
Fingers yearn,
pulling handfuls—
cupping water within water.
Spilling none.

At the wall,
form a ball.
Push out tall,
slice the water--
streaming through—accelerating.
Racing on.

Kick the beat.
Flexing feet.
Then repeat,
each metered lap,
a mirrored image of the last.
Reflection.

In the zone.
Stroke and turn.
Technique toned
to keep head low.
Watch the line that hypnotizes.
Rhythm’d calm.

Cheering throngs.
Breathing strong.
I’m among
eight competing.
Edging, pushing, reaching, striving.
Until won!