the race track

in the late 70's i lived
behind
a race track.
it lay just beyond the woods,
a slight stream
and a parking lot.
the cloud like glow
of light reached my windows.
at night i could hear
the thunder
of hooves, the call of
the race. the shouts of
a happy, unhappy crowd.
i thought about the horses.
their lives
arranged by others, unable
to run free.
always, beneath the weight
of others,
always rushing, rushing
towards some finish
line. i had to move.