Final Turn?

Final Turn?
By John R. Greenwood

I lost track counting laps

Was each lap a month? A year?

It doesn't matter now

The race began so long ago

No pit stops on this track

The rails all connected

Allow no escape

Once begun 

You are in the race for good

So off I go 

Running

Month after month

Year upon year

Piling one atop the other

The stretch call not yet visible

Yet lurking lays

Just out of sight

Not quite out of mind

The heart remains full and pounding

Maybe another race?

Maybe a brand new pile?