Thursday, February 2, 2012

Morning run.

Dad. Probably in late 1930's or early 1940's. 



**********
Today I run.
I breath.
My heart beats.
Tunes in my ears all turn into sad songs.
Finally.
I cry.
I heave.
I run.
I lift in prayer what I can not verbalize.
I plan my pilgrimage.
I run.

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