Running Shoes

Running shoes

lined up by the back door,

orderly children

waiting for the recess bell to ring.



Dust gathers,

Layer by layer

old insulation

bits of wire

drywall dust



One pair,

held in hopeful isolation

at the bottom

of the gym bag,

is passed over again and again

for lycra and goggles

save the rare morning run.



I am woefully unprepared,

except for the swim.

As if I could train

to run and ride

by carrying boxes

and wielding a paintbrush.



But I will toe the line,

wishing for a handful of miracles

and the forgiveness of my shoes.

Perhaps an Iron will is enough.



LB 10/09/08
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