Nocturne

running in place

my tongue has grown strong and hard

my pace is steadier my step surer

measured as circles move around me and define

this frayed self the center of at least one stubborn

cosmos

here i sweat the days

humming because rhythm makes persistence possible

occasionally breaking into song-and-dance

aware of the weight that impedes momentum

aware of wind factor and traction

(to wish i were dead? easy. the one wish that

always comes true)

as the hum of unseen fellow runners

urges me on thru this brilliant fruitless flight

point of departure is a certainty

arrival a myth

as i streak along the beginning turning back on

itself again and again. my focus dead ahead

peering. to see if

this is the dark that precedes dawn

or the darkness before the dark