The Egg and Spoon Race


And on the heels of summer raced
Us children, with our egg and spoons,
The smell of cut grass in my face,
As parents wallowed deep in June.
I ploughed the earth, my head rammed down,
Determined that the badge was mine.
I barged and pushed and concentrated
On the distant finish line.
All echoes now of long ago
When hair was short and shorts were long,
And summers spent on playing fields
Were choruses to childhood’s song.
I didn’t win that plastic badge.
I broke the tape disqualified,
For halfway down the chalk-edged track
My egg committed suicide.


27 responses to “The Egg and Spoon Race

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