Dusk is cozying into the dark
It’s wintry in a rainy aftermath
Brain’s running pattern matching
Triggered by variables of weather
Led on by the subconscious —
Shoes for running, now I’m wearing
Stretching myself to warm against
The mental map of my running stretch
Hopping on foam soles to
Warm up for a run in intervals
Stomp
Trot
Jog
There are no dogs — forward
There are no lights — turn around
There are less humans — forward
There are no humans — turn around
Pant
Breathe
Recover
Stomp
Trot
Jog
There is my stretch — a park; jog ahead
The sparse lights are going out — turn around
A distant bike is revving near — turn around
Or wait and watch it pull ahead — forward
Pant
Breathe
Recover
Stomp
Trot
Jog
Listening to the racing heart
In it’s rhythm to racing neurons
In futile pursuit of a safe course
Ensconced in thorny vines of hope
Pant
Breathe
Recover
Stomp
Trot
Jog
Tracker states five intervals of anxiety
I am crying, this not a world for all
Why cannot it be safe for all?
Stomp
Trot
Jog
There is a stretch — familiar; forward
There are many lights — jog ahead
I am crying, happy, easing as
Endorphins flush out anxiety
Pant
Breathe
Recover
Finally from the welcome exhaustion
Of marking territory with sweat
Still shrouded in crowding thoughts
Of how do we make it safe for all.
— — — — —
Waking up at midnight to wrap memories of my recent interval run of misery in a layer of poetry, or rather to sandwich so-called-poetry into Intervals.