“And they’re off,” he announced

In his slick baritone;

His signature sound

That made each call his own.

The speed straight to the lead,  

As he knew would take place,

But he called out a name

From the previous race.

He shook off the mistake

And refocused his eyes

Then listed the field

To a great deal of surprise,

For the names he exclaimed,

As they sprinted the lawn,

Were horses from races

That weren’t the race going on.

The crowd wondered a bit

And looked at their sheets,

But when the long shot won

They roared in their seats.

And for the rest of the day

All insisted he call

Each horse by a name

That no one knew at all.

This is a Black Cloud Stable LLC original poem.  © 2019

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