The Aging Athlete Reinvents Himself

                                               for John Howard


​In the pauses of his speech
a line of Housman's comes to mind:
"And silence sounds no worse than cheers."
For years have passed since honors heaped
about him. His competitors are old
or dead.
              Might they assemble
in his mind, like Civil War veterans
in the grainy black and white newsreel,
stooped over, bearded white,
eager to shake his hand
over the stone fence at Gettysburg?

Or are they as they were, young, lean,
taut and fierce, riding in the gap
that never quite closes.

To see him stand, soothsayer
of the Bonneville Flats,
Socrates of the slow twitch,
nearing eighty!
How can it be?
                         He is tall and composed
at the podium, his face craggy
as Lincoln's, and for some of us,
near as noble. To us
he is still the fastest man on earth,
refusing the slow walk toward the finish line.

The Aging Athlete Reinvents Himself for John Howard ©Daniel Dahlquist