Olympic Champion
By Michele Wolf
The tremor starts not as a temblor,
Not even as an autumn rustling of leaves.
It starts as a butterfly rising, fluttering—
As the briefest gesture of wings. So
Quickly it vanishes, repeats with longer
Visits—these can linger for years—
Until the flutter is expelled
By the pummel of a one-two punch,
Then punch after punch after punch.
How the body seizes.
Stilling millions of viewers, the relay’s
Final athlete clutched the flaming
Wand, his head and his left arm
Convulsing without pause but the rest
Of him steely, inviting the task. Ignited,
The crowd, lurching to their feet, roared.
They had witnessed the Greatest, discovered
Their hearts bouncing, outside their control.
For Muhammad Ali, 1942–2016
Michele Wolf is the author of Peacocks on the Streets (Broadstone Books, 2025), Immersion (The Word Works, 2011), the Anhinga Prize for Poetry winner Conversations During Sleep (Anhinga Press, 1998), and The Keeper of Light (Painted Bride Quarterly Poetry Chapbook Series, 1995). Her poems have appeared in Poetry, The Hudson Review, The Southern Review, and elsewhere. Among her honors are a Maryland State Arts Council Independent Artist Award and fellowships from Yaddo, the Edward F. Albee Foundation, and the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts. She lives in Gaithersburg, Maryland, and teaches at The Writer’s Center in Bethesda. Her website is http://michelewolf.com.