Poem Describes The Nerves Of Your First Start Line

First Start Line

As dreaded as middle school slow dance.

My outfit is not right
and they are shaking

my knees—I think suddenly
how lucky, the trees.

What are we doing here
most unlady and like the rest

find nobody belongs.

I remind myself of the first time
I toed the line

And remember
everything is going to be fine.

Other poems by Alexi:

Prepping For A Race
Insight Into The Competitive Runner
“Before”—Poem About The Olympics