run three, for me


with a big smile,
because Blue is so close
you can touch her, breathe
her in and be
-gin the day knowing
you’ve run the (g)race
you need. you’ve come
to the water and
returned whole,
filled your lungs
and stilled
your soul.

paint your heart
in sacred strains
of staggered breath
and daisy chains of
He loves me, loves me.
the clouds together
to make a rope from
here to indigo, granite
-pulled and plucked
for so much more
than climbing. tie
yourself to shore
and dive in, for one
more sigh




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run three, to Blue


from me to You,
where (g)race flows
free from every
rhythmic step. where sky
and lakey sea
make way for more
of You
and less
of me.

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map my run


map my breath by tune of blue,
my heart by sacred morning moon.

map my skin with cool of breeze
and scent of pine.

map my soul with the misty
of morning grace.

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cool {blue} runnings

run two
(point five)
to waiting blue,
to the scattered hue of a rising sky.

i am
the rhythm of feet
and the silence of
nobody and no
body and heartbeat
and birdsong. the long

slow strides that mean
i’m alive and breathing
…………………{in blue}
the smile of sun over
pine and the way the rooftops
still crave shadow for just a little more
while. i am

quiet. only breath. the
breadth and depth of cool blue
pool that calls you, woos
you. soothes you. 

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blue streak

run one
with a bright blue
smile at the end. be

-friend the bug
you ate; debate the
hues of pink and blue
and know the stones
know things. fling

breath and caution
and fear to a morning breeze,
a blushing sky. start

the day in cool leafy
sway and abundant grace
and a slow cloud chase.

run one more
and a half, feel the ping
of calf and the thrum of lung. rhythm
heart and mind and tongue to
a new song. 



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run to blue

should do it,
there and back

Cool breeze, cool lungs,
a brilliant sun skimming
the surface of all this blue.

There’s a rhythm here
that’s different, a sky song
waiting. The beat of feet
without the strangling
heat. A breath caught, held,

For once, a little
sad you’re done. 


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a morning sky spree,
a sunrise song. a slight smile.

listen to the lungs, the thirsty
tongue, the way the whooooosh of street
gathers to the beat of my scissored feet.

watch an orange ball of fire
spark the sky. 



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