Running
Running
Down the
Dirt path, ankles
Nearly turning in the
Ruts but never quite. Occasionally
Lifting her arms above her head allowing
The breeze to cool the sweat between her
Fingers. At last reaching her limit, slowing.
Skipping the last few yards made
Her feel like a kid
And she laughed at
Herself. Striding out
Of the
Urban
Wilderness back
To supposed civilization
And looking forward to
Water as her chest heaved
Ever more slowly. Snapping the rubber
Band out of her hair and running
Her fingers through the damp
Smooth strands, strolling now.
Passing houses quiet
In the
Heat
Of the
Afternoon, silent in
That odd high summer
Doldrums-no one-wants-to-
Move sort of way. She skipped
Over a few more squares of sidewalk,
Loving the feel of muscles in
Her legs and smiling again
In her joy of
Being. Taking a
Deep breath,
Blowing
It out
One last time.
And feeling damned good.
A screen door slams, a
Sudden disruption in the heavy silence.
She cocks her head in that direction,
Watching a man trot down the
Cracked cement of his front
Walk. His hair is
A lovely carroty
orange, shooting
Out
In all
Directions as though
Sprouting. Freckles like sprinkles
Of rich dirt. His mom
Must have been a gardener. He
Looks up, smiles at her as she
Comes nearer. His eyes, her eyes.
She finds herself drawn in
To his homegrown charm
And pauses, digging
For the
Perfect
Opening. Just
Don’t tell him
His eyes look like
Eggplants, she grins to herself.
With strangely budding affection, she says
Great day for a kohlrabi, i’nt it?
Comments