Jogging

I jogged, one foot after the other, Lungs wide open to welcome, Breathings of the warm evening air, Eyes stung at the touch of Cruel sweat, saturated and salty. I jogged, a flat branch overhead, My left arm reached out to touch The tree and its clippings, Dwindling down the serpent's throat, Though my fingers were amiss. I jogged, against the moving air, Soles hitting the ground aloud, Bullets firing as if the sound, Outpacing the farthest person, All was fair and square.