Legs

I can stretch them out again, I can hit a stride that isn't tangled up with neurotic watch-checking, I can fly through the trails without worrying about when I will hit the walking segment and lose all my hard-earned body heat, I can slip through the mud and bounce from the stones, I can spook groundhogs and squirrels.

In the corners of my eyes, I see leaves fluttering as the wind flips them over, and I flinch, but it's nothing. My hair bounces against my head. There are misbehaving dogs that smash into my shins, and I just run them down and laugh, and they stare at me, torn between pursuit and obedience.

The trees are full of secrets, waiting to burst.

27 March 2014 18:40