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John Dodson Oct 2014
running
not for or from
not to or fro
just one foot in front of the other.
not really counting
not steps
not miles
not minutes, seconds, or calories
just a rhythm
pounding
pacing
pulse quickening
breathing deeply
settling steadily to the sound of my footfalls
the mindless carrying on of my legs
a welcome counter to the emptying of my head
Leah Matilda Jul 2014
And then, so I wouldn’t weep with the injustice of it all,
I gave all the tension in my body to my feet.
As they pounded down the dirt track,
the cold mountain air screamed down my throat and set fire to my lungs. For a time it was just me racing the wind,
until the fire within engulfed me
and flame met the earth in a whisper-sweet embrace

— The End —