| arms stretched, like when young, into air which hangs all around, grasps onto these thoughts which threaten to fade further everyday. running, into where wet grass 'round bare legs softly wraps.
this field, i never want to see it END. & i run, though not this time to escape.. i run to feel wind brush inside these underused lungs, filling them with intoxicating, sweet atmosphere.
tonight i will lie here alone & fall asleep--drunken, exhausted, content. & when i arise, these fences imagined in darkness are no longer found in light.
right now, i'm waiting for what will make me stand still the rest of my life,
but running is spending patience well.
| 
