Went jogging on my daily routine,
shorts and a t-shirt on a sunny day.
Had me a running partner for the road,
sometimes it's needed when your 65.

Black robed trailed him as we picked the pace,
steady footfalls counted the time.
Black concrete like the river Stix,
and the ferryman follows me all the way.

I kept the time and he checked my pulse,
he had noticed my shoelace was untied.
I bent over to rectify the problem,
car drove over and helped with his.

(Crash!)

No more time to keep, no more pulse,
we kept running onto a different path.
He led the way this time, at good pace,
never found it hard to keep up with him.

His black robe flowing, tennis shoes white,
skeletal hands wiping off sweat.
The path kept going to a different place,
there was no room to turn around.

Ran down that road with my friend,
he of the black robes and tennis shoes.
Just a morning jog, that's all it was,
now I'll be jogging to my final destination.

01/26/2006