The Styx

The Styx

One thirty-one,

Zennen and Mama run

Around MLK track

Appears, he has a knack

Three O-four

I’m still not on the floor

He’s running in cleats

They’re making funny bleats

Four forty-eight

I stayed up too late

I’m huffing,

and puffing

He’s quiet

As a guyot,

A bit of space begins to set

Cleats tune-up their final strette

Could I blame it on my achilles?

Something strange gave me the willies?

But in fact, the truth

Is spelled out: YOUTH

Six O-O

He crosses with glow

Six Oh Six

At least, it’s not the Styx!