for Anika
Here at the Connecticut, where the Sound spurts
as the wind kicks up the waves and spreads them,
stretching and gliding from Black Hall to Niantic—
is the best place for learning to run in the dark.
Not on packed sand at the water’s edge, where
a spill would only mean a slight rinsing, but
back near the beach grass, with the dunes
and bleached wood, pushing yourself full face
toward the wide drift of the marsh hill, lifting
your knees almost to your out-thrust chin: eyes
closed, back straight, finding your balance by
running, relying only on the fall of the land
and the direct wash in your face to keep you
striding in a line, reaching out your arms
with grace, trusting the pull of the moon,
as if your motion were one motion
with the arc of a wave, the turn of the earth,
daring the body to believe the only collision
you’ll chance
will be a new breath of yourself.
Red Bottoms For Men 2013
Running by Water « John Maloney Poems
Red Rash On Baby Bottom
Running by Water « John Maloney Poems
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Running by Water « John Maloney Poems