I know no rivers, no forests, no fields.

I know pavement and concrete

— and how hard fulfillment feels on my feet,

my back, the sun, the heat as temperatures

rise. I know the relentless wind,

drenching rain,

and numbing chill against my skin

when glory subsides.


I know the horizon, the black hills,

the lonesome flats and sunbaked sky.

I know the endlessness of a landscape

as desire dies,

as muscles strain, breasts

bleed, knees knot in pain –

Oh, to run through, draw breath,

Need knowing not, yet


Joy to you —




Categories: History of Running, Poetry, Selection: 2010 - 2015, Uncategorized

3 replies

  1. Great poem! “the endlessness of landscape” captures running on so many different levels. Thank you for the gift of your words.

  2. Beautifully written, as usual. Making something lovely out of something painful. I think I will stay home and let you just tell me about it.

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