Barefoot on grass, kissed by the air,
Flushed with the deed. Once was enough,
Enough to tell this was not my life –
The flare of speed, the thrill, the pain,
The knowledge I was done.
I’ve rather sought the long, slow pace,
One day, one hour, one step,
Persisting till I’m there.
©2017 John I. Blair, 5/3/2017