just one
…………{mile}
not much
(smile), but oh,
that sun still rises
and even in this
sticky hot fiery-lunged
morning, there is a (g)race.
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Go for it. Running gets really amazing if you stick with it. Before long, one mile becomes two, becomes three…
The sun will always rise and life will go on. Greetings!
sure is…
You tricked me. I thought I was rereading your poem “run one” and I was wondering how I skipped down on my reader to that poem. I really enjoyed the description of “fiery-lunged.” I’ve encountered that feeling more than once.