At the Races

The click of shoes on concrete Rings through the musty air A few rays of sunlight Hit the brightly colored jackets The squeak of polished leather And the saddle’s gentle thump Boots emit a muffled thud As the jockey leads his animal Metal clangs on metal As the iron gates are closed A stifled cough, a quiet whinny Impatient stamping on the dirt The gun goes off with a sudden bang The crowd cheers, the race is on See the whirling mass of color Hear the thundering of hooves