Swimmers drowsily stroll through the doors like geese in a flock
7 men get ready as they wait for the whistle mentally ready
The whistle blows and they step up onto the block
The blocks are wobbly so the swimmers struggle to keep steady
Another whistle and a voice “take your mark”
A buzzer goes and splash their off
Slicing through the water like fish running from sharks
Take a breath and hope not to cough
Flip turn push streamline glide
Finish is near and someone’s behind
His body distorts as water slides,
Over it and he finishes, as if mankind,
Depended on his time
Yet his race matters less than a dime