The Race

So then it’s a race against time, 
but most of the time I don’t know
in which direction to run.

All I know is that the little girl
up the street went from being one to nine
which means that eight years passed
in the blink of a grave digger’s eye,

and when I look in the mirror
I appear more and more like my father,
the way he looked when I realized
he had finally grown old and that one day
we would be having a conversation
from memory,

me sitting here
and him sitting there,
somewhere on the other side.


Jeffrey Zable is a teacher and conga drummer who plays Afro Cuban Folkloric music for dance classes and Rumbas around the San Francisco Bay Area. His poetry, fiction, and non-fiction have appeared in hundreds of literary magazines and anthologies. Recent writing in Serving House Journal,Futures’ Trading, Unscooped Bagel, Mocking Heart Review, Houseboat (featured poet), 2015 Rhysling Anthology, Poetry Pacific, Abbreviate Journal, Third Wednesday, Mas Tequila and many others.

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