We who with songs beguile your pilgrimage / And swear that Beauty lives though lilies die, / We Poets of the proud old lineage / Who sing to find your hearts, we know not why ... (James Elroy Flecker)

4.11.25

Watching The Cup on TV


The track's a whirl of colour,

of swirling anticipation,

a loud buzz, a festive crowd

for 'the race that stops a nation.'


Champagne and fancy hats.

The flutter of skirts, or money.

They’re off! The crowd roars. Me too.

(Many are once-a-year gamblers; others…)


It's already Tuesday here in Australia: the first Tuesday in November, on which day there is only one race I could mean when I refer to The Cup. The Melbourne Cup has long been known as 'the race that stops a nation.' It's a public holiday only in the State of Victoria, of which Melbourne is the capital; but elsewhere many people, and many places of business, pause for the running of the race. After all, at most places of business, someone will have organised a 'Cup sweep' for the employees. (I don't 'have a flutter' myself, as I don't gamble, not even a little bit, having once been – briefly – married to a compulsive gambler. However , I quite like to see the spectacle.)

Written for Quadrille #235 at dVerse: 44 words which must include 'whirl.' 


No comments:

Post a Comment

DON'T PANIC IF YOUR COMMENTS DON'T POST IMMEDIATELY. They are awaiting moderation. Please allow for possible time difference; I am in Australia. ALSO, IF YOU ARE FORCED TO COMMENT ANONYMOUSLY – do add your name at the end, so I know it's you!