The Runner's Moon
Deep within the swiftness
The beating heart of a runner
Celebrates a flooding solitude
I pause to sit, eying the expanse
Peeling sticky legs off slats of hot metal
One by one, repeating the motion
A voice tells me I'm turned the wrong way for sunset
I laugh and nod ahead, knowing
I'm here for the moonrise.
I become aware,
While the sky burns magnificent pink above my head,
That you are sitting in darkness.
But now we both have the moon.
The one you can look straight into
The one your eyes won't flee from to save themselves.