When a daylight runner runs into night she gets another world
Rick-racking on simple side streets
Avoiding pollution and eye-jabbing car headlights
My feet are road eaters of smooth roads.
The golf course is painted by sprinkler ghosts
Bending their bodies to the ground
Legs enjoy the pulling of the hills
Sand traps suck my feet.
I fly into the navy sky to the giddy stars
Different seasons are the shadows
Camouflaging the road back home.
© Copyright joan joesting 1978
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