*

Through clamorous towns at a headlong pace,

You raced this day into Copley Place,

Where with arm thrust high,

And church bells pealing,

You wear a wreath of glory,

Though head still reeling.

*

The distance you ushered,

The pain you endured,

Your flag now flutters,

Must all seem a blur.

*

But honor’s all yours,

This Patriot’s Day,

In this oldest of marathons,

As men shout, “Hooray!”

*

And though crusted with salt,

Legs seized with fatigue,

The scene’s one to savor,

As you recall the intrigue.

 *

From Hopkinton to Ashland,

With Framingham just ahead,

Ever downward the course rolled,

“Run faster,” it said.

 *

But with purpose you held steady,

As Natick bid adieu,

Knowing the coeds at Wellesley,

Would soon come into view.

*

Forming their Tunnel of Screams,

Stirring spirit and stride,

A din like no other,

At times hard to abide,

*

Yet onward you pressed,

As the  favorites fell behind,

dismissing your chances,

Letting the miles unwind.

 *

Each falling in its order,

As one to the next,

Your lead ever growing,

With each town annexed.

 *

’till finally up Heartbreak,

Newton’s hill of renown,

Where victory and  agony,

Had so often been found.

 *

Your advantage held at strong,

lending credence to your goal,

When sooner than expected,

You could hear the bells toll,

 *

Ringing out from St. Ignatius,

At old Boston College,

The Haunted Mile just ahead,

Where there were ghosts to acknowledge.

*

Who’d seen flyers before,

Come dashing their way,

Down Comm Ave. onto Beacon,

That raging sluiceway.

 *

Where with four miles remaining,

The dream close at your shoulder,

The pace ever faster,

But your opponents growing bolder.

 *

Through Coolidge Corner in Brookline,

The downhills like a hammer,

Quads screaming for mercy,

Hard to hear above the clamor.

 *

Finally, Kenmore Square arrived,

Where Sox fans had gathered,

From Fenway they’d spilled,

With their hot dogs still slathered,

 *

Like generations of kin,

Who’d paid witness before,

These people of Boston,

Came forth to implore,

 *

You hollow-cheeked warriors,

From first to the last,

Who’d taken up this challenge,

Of these miles amassed,

 *

Twenty-five now behind,

With one yet remaining,

The matter unsettled,

The challenger now gaining!

 *

Then down past the Eliot,

‘fore the right onto Hereford,

You chanced a look back,

And in that moment your heart stirred.

*

Knees lifting, arms churning,

You struck with a vengeance,

No guile in intention,

Nor pity, or its semblance,

 *

Only blessed from on high,

As you drove the stake deeper,

the challenger finally cracked,

Leaving you the lone leader!

 *

Amidst the urgency and tumult,

With history so near,

You held close your emotions,

The moment so dear,

*

But in the grip of high drama,

As you surged for the win,

Your face finally split,

As if lit from within.

*

Down Boylston you soloed,

Victory in hand,

Flags waving, cheers rising,

From marathoning’s best fans.

 *

‘till final stride of your making,

You breasted the finish,

The win of a lifetime,

That none can diminish.

 *

This dream, once Quixotic,

That took years in the making,

Holds multitudes beyond measure,

All yours for the taking.

 *

Now you stand `top the podium,

Anthem ringing in your ears,

Heart swelling with pride,

As you revel in the cheers,

*

Knowing truly it is so,

that for a year you will reign,

Gold medal champion,

Every marathoner’s dream.

 *

Joining Demar and the Kellys,

Boston Billy and Joanie,

Your name among legends,

Ringing out in a euphony.

 *

Until new will come `round,

Next Patriot’s Day,

When the old course will await,

And challengers lay.

 *

Full of wiles and high purpose,

Ready to take on the distance,

With you as their target,

And what you offer in resistance.

 *

The same as it’s been,

For a century and more,

The glory of The Marathon,

the legend, its lore.

*

Welcoming men of good faith,

In their quest to make history,

Their sites on that vision, but how it’s done?

Ah, there’s the mystery.

*

But this one’s all yours,

True man of the hour,

A red, white and blue hero,

America’s running super power.

*

END