Raymond A. Foss Poems

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The lined up on the far side
the edge of the parking area,
tires in the oak leaves
I had brushed off their track
They were ready to burst from the gates
eager thoroughbreds, champing at the bit
ready to race the four spaces, across the blacktop
to victory, to glory
But they didn’t stay true to form, they surprised me
Because the winner came in last, how can that be.
They remembered the lesson, of our Lord,
Shyanne won because she was last,
The first shall be last and the last shall be first
Not just one time; but three times the three
repeated the race, again and again the same result,
the same retort, understanding that winning isn’t
about being first. They all fought the good fight;
they all had fun together. In the end,
they all won.

October 9, 2006 13:10
Erica, Shyanne, and Shanequa, sisters and friends,
living out Matthew 20:1-16

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