Bronze

[Lawrence]

I woke one morning
And knew I was bronze;
Felt dawn’s copper light paint
My mattress-sunken body-
Laden with the weight
Of third place.
Before, I would speculate
I was this breed of ore.
Once, I thought I saw
A flake floating over
Red ink-defaced
Essays I had written


Oh, to be excluded
From the golden race-
A poor prize placed
around necks of
near-succeeders and
Almost-makers-
The kind of trophy that
No one wants, but anyone will
Take, just to have some
Reward for what they’ve done.