Sometimes When I Run

Sometimes when I run I think
Inventing a reason isn’t easy.
My scrawlings and scratchings
Expose confession that I’m not
From here. Definitely not of here.
I don’t subscribe to their plain
Variety of language, their plain
Professions and pursuits. And
Chosen toil makes me skittish.
But I bear up under the living
Weight of it splayed across every
Man’s door for a willful minute
Before I bolt to the valley floor
Following the rot of the riverbed
With the prowess of a puma or jaguar
Indifferent to the lack of imagination,
The empty fields full of witch grass,
Goat, and cow plop not raked under,
Where I continue to invent more reasons.

Written for dVerse Poets

10 thoughts on “Sometimes When I Run

  1. Ah.. running through the roots of endless creativity is where i too.. love.. to travel alone.. and perhaps the creation will speak to others.. but if not.. alone in creativity is enough for me.. as creator and product of life..CREATES..:)!

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