Tuesday, March 14, 2006

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.

6 Comments:

Blogger MB said...

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.

3:36 pm  
Blogger LJ said...

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.

5:53 pm  
Blogger She's Like Heroin said...

Sublime - thank you.

5:20 am  
Blogger zhoen said...

The good kinds of strong thoughts needed to keep pounding away.

1:12 pm  
Blogger Patry Francis said...

Oh, this brings me nostalgia for my old running days. You capture that uniquely wonderful feeling so well.

5:13 am  
Blogger Mary said...

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.

9:22 am  

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