This day, this life, is suddenly running like a mad groundhog.
Pastoral slowness abandoned to this mad dash to cross the killer road.
Ducking under lightly guarded, soft metal barriers,
Invading the concrete expanse,
Exploding to the other side.
This day, this life, is suddenly running
With a groundhog’s mad, wild abandon.
Like a pair of hairy wings with glazed eyeballs.
Like a pair of muscled shoulders churning and shedding.
Running like a seized moment for the ages.
Running with everything.
Running straight ahead, running blind,
Just to get to the other side.