I Was Running

I am Running.

it is my whole being.

my entire counciousness is absorbed in running

in the rythms of the motion

the slap of my soles on the street

the in of the cold air, the out of a cloud

my ponytail bouncing on my bare back

the threat of a stich in my side

left and right arms pumping foward and back.



I see the finish line.

I made it!

The rythms accelerate. 

Now I am desire

I see my sister,

am grateful she came so far,

and run faster. Her joyful shout spurs me on

past her 

to the line.

I am steps away-

just a few long strides-

when the earth beneath my foot shudders

and the sound of my panting is swallowed by

a boom

then screams

as a column of ash-colored smoke rises

and everyone begins running.

I have never seen spectators run before. 


I have passed the finish line without slowing or noticing.

For filling my whole being was the need to run away.


Where is she?

I have called

and she did not respond.

How is she?

I could never

forgive myself

if she is hurt.

I hope

she isn't worrying about me. 

What happened?


Grant-Grey Porter Hawk Guda

Powerful expression! 

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