Twin Sprints

http://jenniferlshelton.com/tag/gemini/

A statue carved in ebony and brought to life
was running past as if pursued, and then I saw
his twin there, whittled from the same dark
wood. Each had the same neat beard, same nose
in profile there against the sky and sea, four
pumping arms, four legs extended for the sprint,
the only difference, the color of the swimming trunks
they wore and too, of course, their speeds. I wondered
if their mother made them dress alike when they
were little boys. I wondered if they always raced
each other at the beach. I wondered if the first
man always won, and what that possibility would
mean, to always come in second to someone
whose face and body are the mirror image you
can never quite catch up to. What that possibility
would mean the day you finally did, and passed him by.


(c) Ellen Gillette, 2014