Spectator

They staged a race today, and I
Stood back and watched them running by,
The fleet out front, the pack enmassed,
Determined walkers passing last
(If one discounts the shadow of
Regret I wasn’t named above,
Which flitted fitfully behind).

They raced, I watched. I didn’t mind.

The Greatest Spectations

It’s One July!
Who’s sad? Not I!
We’re halfway through
Two-oh-one-two!
Le Tour’s begun;
So’s Wimbledon.
The London trials,
Training miles…
What else? Right:
My job! I might
Not close an eye
This whole July!
Those counting sheep
Will surely keep
‘Til August, when
I’ll sleep again
At last– What’s that?
Olympics?!? Drat.