Freedom Of Trail Runners

Gamboling
against
push me pull you winds
Ultra runners keep close
to the ground
Fingering hoof-worn
ruts with
tender black-nailed
toes
Signs of pride
for ones such as they
Head bowed down
into blustery wind
taking in deep dusty
draughts of the same
Selves never wonder
“Why in the World?’
Loving lonesomeness
Liking pain
Relishing the many miles
But not with outward smiles
Squeezed gels and gus
help them through
Swallowed salt pills, cooked
potatoes dipped in salt
at tented rest stops
Thus fueled
this breed goes primary, deep,
testing, wild
They’re gritty to the taste
Salty sweat stings their eyes
Weathered windows into
Pure, digging gumption
known only by the ones who dare
Tough and tried by the miles
and miles under their belts
Sunburned, blistered, hobbled,
turn inside out
Heat exhausted, Hypothermiaed souls
Ever-rugged individuals
Running to reach
their one true love.
Freedom to be.

Freedom Of Trail Runners

H A Waring Johnson

Joined October 2009

  • Artist
    Notes
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