I Run


I Run

Breakfast in bed, a rose on the tray served by a beautiful sister so full of love and loyalty.

A mother so full of rage toward her son, “you nigga, pay back is a mother fucker” the boy cringes in shame on the city bus bench.

I run to absorb it all, the shock of the hard cement is felt in my bones

Beautiful African violets left on my door step by persons who no longer exist,
bringing sweet memories of times when we I thought we were inseparable

Mother possum dead on the side of the road, her litter of pups prematurely expelled on to the asphalt

The delighted smile of a little boy seeing the black and white form of “free Willy”

I run to integrate all I have experienced, the shock, hurt, beauty resting on my heart.

A Dad hits his son’s head “you’re done” he says, the small boy looking so internally injured “why did you hit me dad?”

A greeting from friends long past brings memories of fondness, missing, love and longing again for former closeness.

The delightful taste of cookies and chocolate bring ecstasy to our mouths.

The smile from a stranger brings a feeling of sexiness to my body.

I run to dissipate in to the air, to soften the harsh sensitivity to this world with all it’s cruelty and wonder.

Don’t worry little possum there will be more $400,000. condos built in the flood plains, the land you once called home.

I run to contemplate that I am aware of it all. I feel it all; joy and pain in ways that are profound, to the degree I honor suffering is to the degree I savor joy.

I run, because I can
I run, because I have to
I keep running. I run the distance. I run 26.2 (for Jamie). I run I run I run


May 14, 2006
copyright 2006 Elene Bratton

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