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Running Three Miles in the Houston Sun: a Tritina

August 14, 2012

My legs felt quick and light

as I rounded the first turn of the sun-soaked gravel path.

The faces of other runners and walkers baked grimly beneath their hair,


but as for me, my gait was smooth and strong upon the path,

and the bounce of my step swung my hair

back and forth in the unbroken light.


As I made the turn to mile two, my hair,

now sodden with sweat and no longer light,

smacked against my burnt cheeks, leaving behind on the skin a salty path.


The path before me darkened, my body absorbing all the light of the sun, my hair clinging like a drowned sailor to my face, and I stopped at mile three, my face baking grimly in the August heat.


From → poetry

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