Running by Alison McKenzieYou 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
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