Linda R. Quennec: Run

Spring '13 TOC

 

A hazy lake in morning, city-straddled with refuge seekers who walk dogs, push strollers, or the last few miles of movement left in aging bodies. My own, aching with coffee-addled nerves takes its place, fuses itself to the silent surge. I press my arm against a well-mossed tree for balance and lift one leg, catching a foot to stretch. The trunk is scattered with fungi, miniscule goblets striving to catch reluctant late summer rain. Smell of cedar and earth. Abiding warmth. Nothing has shifted yet.

 

 

::Next::

Not Enough Night
Not Enough Night
© 2012 Naropa University