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Running

by Alison McKenzie

You know I’ve never be a racer
These feet planted
Oaks, solid, steady, ancient,
Shelters in the rage.

Until this last year -
Transformation
Turning these feet to rivers.
Running, always running now.
Ocean’s anonymity
Seduction of being swallowed
By something bigger than me.

I’m like sand,
Can’t be held.
Can’t be pinned.
Can’t be turned to pillars.
No, not anymore.

So don’t reach for me,
I’m running.

12/06/2009

Posted on 12/06/2009
Copyright © 2025 Alison McKenzie

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Joan Serratelli on 12/06/09 at 11:59 PM

I truely loved this piece! Excellent write!

Posted by V. Blake on 12/07/09 at 09:16 AM

Sharp and poignant as only you can accomplish.

Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 12/07/09 at 06:51 PM

Very nice indeed.

Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 12/07/09 at 06:51 PM

Very nice indeed.

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