Communion

I rise in the intermission, the break between two days, that belongs to no illuminated date. The dog snores as I slowly and steadily dress in thin layers that allow the body to exchange breath with the night. I gently exit the protection of exclusion, careful not to the disturb the solitude that I enter. Tingling cold brushes across me as I give the air a taste of my warmth, a tentative expression of intimacy, promised, offered and accepted. The run begins alone, daytime citizens do not exist at this non-hour. The city is abandoned, free. I experience a simple quiet accompanied by footsteps and the rhythm of breathing. I don't see you or know you, but I believe you are there. Somewhere, in some dark city street, you are running with me. I sense your contentment. Your smooth easy stride resonates with mine, becoming a song, the ballad of the run. I salute you with the slightest hint of a nod. December 9, 2017