image from dreamstime.com
wrote this poem while remembering my younger days as a competitive runner
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Winter’s bite clings to the air, each footfall breaking the thin ice of morning. My breath unravels in ragged ghosts, disappearing into the gray dawn. Spring arrives—moist ground, and mud splattering on my calves. The ache in my lungs is suddenly green, filled with pollen and carefree birdsong. Summer sears the asphalt, melting the soles of my shoes. Rivers of sweat run down my spine. I spring through the fevered world, chasing the horizon and blue sky. Autumn arrives quietly; leaves are brittle underfoot. The wind tugs at my clothes like a lover who knows I’m leaving. I slow down, not because I'm tired but because the light is disappearing. Even the longest roads must turn homeward. If you enjoyed this poem, you may want to read its memoir vignette companion, Season to Season, posted here on Poetry Soup: poetrysoup.com/short_stories/season_to_season_13582
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
