The wind, clear, cold and fresh. A warning.
A thin ache in my arch, like lumps in watered down milk.
I step out cautiously, willing it to clear.
Stepping through the motions, doing what I must.
Movement calms me
And breathe, relax.
Out along the edges, the wind pushes, challenges.
I welcome its resistance, encouraging slowness.
I run.
A minute flies and I’m earthbound again
Heading into the darkness for another turn
Resisting thoughts of other times, other daybreaks
Just being here, and now.
The path stretches far ahead
I turn back before it pulls me on.
Head over heart this time.
Pale streaks of brightness over the ink black sea.
Lifted.
Barely a murmur in the earliness. Just breath and feet.
And the swish of my hair against a bright nylon collar.
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