The runner

(for Jerry Friesen)

Long as the slope feels right and a stride can bite

& a tail-wind's favourable,
with spring hostas & grass along the way(& love of sky
going dearly 'afore)

then I can run!—

& even as the thunderhead's
snarly fifes take over lakes
& the cars' brash ferocities, too, nose round me
at every mile,

still there's breath that means to go on

and the road ahead
(same long sun-loving one) —
spun of a breakthrough

will add to it, down the mazy path, a drama too
for gravelly shades and Lady,
accompanied by rain, wind; or moles in a winding ditch;
or leaf hoppers startled

to their knees; or teens, all teeth & gauche hate,
who wait for me,
a roving Aeneas, alone in the world, a warm body on legs
laughed at in spades

For the day's the same, howso'er it lisps with slopes,
and dandelion yards,
and a runner all eyes & ears for a dear blue sky,
who'll gladly turn home

when the tall winds die