He Runs

HE RUNS

He runs

Shoes barely touch gravel

His breath

shallow and fast gasps

in mouthful gulps of speed and need

And when he leaps

his calves long and graceful

but he doesn't acknowledge

For when he runs

He discharges his mind

Sends out his thoughts

Discards his logic

Bans his feelings

When he runs

All that matters doesn't matter

anymore

He runs

And doesn't even notice

The tears that run like rivulets

Streamlets of oblivion

Carrying with them

Remnants of painful nights

Or gazing at stars

That just didn't want to

form themselves into

dreams to last nights long

But his feet kick out

those last lost memories

Rags and tatters of thoughts

He runs

For today and tomorrow

For a life long of knowing

That waking up means

Seeing those trainers

Stand in a corner

With ballet shoes

Loved but neglected

Decayed and discarded

So he runs with that knowledge

An awareness still painfu;l

Accepts recognition

and slows down

And finally

Nods.

***

March 4, 2017

© Darren White