I’ve seen in black and white
footage how you were pure gold
losing the long jump to Jesse Owens,
an American man whom Hitler
called “a non-human from the jungle.” 
Where in the swastika-filled stadium
did you find the courage to embrace
the black athlete who had beaten you
in front of your leader who
had no room in his life for love
of one so different from you,
his fair-haired, blue eyed
model of his master race?
I’ve seen the films of you
losing then walking the track
with your arm around Jesse Owens
and his arm around you
grinning like brothers,
teaching Berlin and the world
how one who loses can still be
a champion, can still tame hatred
for an Olympic moment
as Hitler stared from on high
looking stunned and alone
like a demon homesick for hell.

This poem is the winner of the 2013 New Jersey Poetry Prize 
from the Journal of New Jersey Poets.
Used here with their permission.