Let It Go
School, clocks, papers, forms, money, competition:
we aren't meant to be this way, can't we see?
Let it go.
The rain was warm,
soaking through the seams of your old jacket
that I was wearing.
It was by chance we met
on that ship to Patras.
Myself, I was drunk with travel,
a boy of seventeen with the wide world before him.
Stand there, on that starting line
Shivery, slick with sweat, legs wound tight like springs
A thundering shot echoes,
Stolen steps, a slight shove, a steely resolve: