A hurdle

Evan calvo

MD class of 2024

A red circle under a blazing sun, An odd April heat. I stood appraising The eight hurdles I was to overcome, Standing proudly, immovable they seemed.

The blast of a gun, filling the floral air. Six proud hurdles I overcame, but alas The seventh brought me to the ground, my knees Red – gravel, blood – my stride broken. I pressed on.

I approached the eighth – tepid, apprehensive. Out of fear of again meeting the ground, I went around. Sideways, but still forward, And in the end it was all the same.

Lofty and desired is to surmount, From peaks, we miss the beauty of valleys.