The Runner
No longer
on the edges
of the physical
she runs
determinedly
feet striking
the pavement
hard
cloudy breath
on a cold morning
lungs absorbing
oxygen
into the blood
pounding heart
strong
solid
under her skin,
attached
to working muscles
by fibrous, ropey
tendons
are the bones
bones gaining
density
milk-white
marble-white
giving her form
giving her substance
a life on earth.
on the edges
of the physical
she runs
determinedly
feet striking
the pavement
hard
cloudy breath
on a cold morning
lungs absorbing
oxygen
into the blood
pounding heart
strong
solid
under her skin,
attached
to working muscles
by fibrous, ropey
tendons
are the bones
bones gaining
density
milk-white
marble-white
giving her form
giving her substance
a life on earth.
posted by Mary at 7:20 am
6 Comments:
I like the solid physicality of this piece. Especially in contrast to the softness of the rose, which reminds me of the softness of skin! Bodies are amazing, the way they carry such diverse characteristics simultaneously.
I love, "no longer/ on the edges/of the physical." And the feeling the poem gives of her making a transition to "form."
This is a beauty.
Sublime - thank you.
The good kinds of strong thoughts needed to keep pounding away.
Oh, this brings me nostalgia for my old running days. You capture that uniquely wonderful feeling so well.
Thank you all.
I have such a tendency to live in my thoughts, in my head, on occasions that it was therapeutic to write a celebration of the body.
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