why I run

running, 5 a.m.
this is strength,
stamina;
this is freedom rushing in
--a new beginning

first moments of foot to pavement
like old friends reunited,
milk and honey to an impoverished soul.

mind wanders with no restraint
free, finally, to soar
unswept heights
mysteriously,
elusively,
like the eagle it thinks it is--
for there are miles to go
and the body will keep the time,
this time.

running 6 a.m.
shadow to the west--
this is my dark
the light is revealing to me.
its movements appear weaker
than my own.
no effort instilled
no passion aroused
for the run.
my pernicious dark
merely gliding along beside me,
laughing, I think,
at the sweat that does not
wet her brow,
barely lifting her legs
to go the next mile.

But her desperation
is hidden
at the edges of my feet--
in how she clings,
holding there with resolute ferocity--

this is my dark
the light exposes to me.
this is my dark
I can not out-run.

in--7 a.m.
and still
my dark remains
but this is the race
that I have finished--
despite her.

This is good to remember.
This is why I run.