white smoke of Canaveral

curling towards visionary space


blindfolded, she went 20 to zero,

‘fore seeking our hides.


anticipation of Old Faithful

Yellowstone’s sulfur-up-your-nose.


Guy Lombardo New Year’s eve –

champagne glasses tilted high.


on your mark, get set, and Olympic sprinters


like starlings over the Vatican.


Bottles of beer we took down

and passed around…


The Horses are at the Gate,

sweaty tickets in palms,

silken jockeys praying



the 2-minute warning,

time to grab your last snack

before the Oakland Raiders

give you another heart attack.

One thought on “countdown

  1. I love these many moments in the countdowns. Each stanza is its own poem, and together they create many emotions for us readers. Perhaps I know some better than others, but it doesn’t really matter. We have so many longings and traditions, so those last moments become quite important. I like the tension of the sprinters, the exuberance of New Year’s Eve, even the informal fun of a snack break during a game. Reading again and then writing this response, I realize I’m going to look for more such experiences in life.

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