The lonely runner leaves behind the urban sprawl,
as neighbours close their shades against the chilly night.
Sunsets fingers grasp the sky in shades of red and gold
and try to hold the remnants of the evening light.

His footsteps stroke the ground,
where travellers homeward bound
have found no pleasure in their weary tread.
Striding now with natural ease, no thought involved,
as frosty air takes hold of breath
to paint a streetlight halo round his head.

He takes the path he loves the best,
the grassy tracks surviving  
mans encroaching fields of tarmac grey.
The trees enfold him as he runs,
their fallen leaves disturbed beneath his feet  
as rustling echoes pave his solitary way.

He feels his inner battle start, as strength of spirit
vies with bodies lack of will.
The plateau reached he pushes on
and knows his mind can overcome
the weakness of the outer shell.

Elation reached in solitude
and self sought conflict fought and won,
the runner slows his steps and turns for home,
part sorrowful of evening ritual done.

With weary flesh but soul refreshed,
escaping from the daytimes ties a little while,
her face unbidden comes to mind
and thoughts to waiting pleasures turn ..
and bring a smile.