Wednesday, February 25, 2015

THE SILENT MILE

Facing a Boston marathon
in memory
of your friend's passing
days fool you
like an embrace
of spring's procession
on a canvas of belts and jackets
lining up
by your running shoes
as a seagull cries and sings out
overhead for you
in a sun's hostage
resting for a moment
to tie your open laces.

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