I ran two miles last night, my first in months.
Too long I've let myself get flabby, knowing
I can build my speed back up at once.
But you, old tortoise, you kept right on going.
I might have been Achilles, trapped in space,
defeated by a piddling abstraction,
but that's another tale, another race.
This one I lose by much more than a fraction.
Come out, I know you're in there: I'm ahead,
you hear me? Miles and miles ahead of you.
Unclose your shell, put out your legs and head.
It's time you showed the world what you can do.
You, slow and steady, cross your finish line,
while I'm caught napping, years away from mine.
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Sometime around 1980.