Here's something I wrote about running this autumn. Hopefully it reaches beyond running to resonate at other levels but if anyone anywhere gets something from it then that is enough for me. It is raw and unfinished but I kind of like it like that. I tried to edit and prune it but it lost its pulse so here it is in new-born state.

I like to run, run like light
butter-soft light splashed over the plains,
a fleet-foot secret, now a girl, arms splayed
now breasting feathers, soft and lifting,
now clean to the bone, sternum keening

see I stretch out over hills, ravines
toe-to-toe drawing me into space
each sole print bristling papillae,
the clouds strung across the finish line
parting for me as I rise,
my breath in wreathes of cirrus
scarves, my body far behind.


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