Running Poem #4

Another run, another poem.  This is becoming a thing for some reason.

——–

The slanting light of dawn

Gives even me a long shadow

Looming over pond and slope

A temporary, apparent, giant.

To the baby rabbit with a mouthful of clover

I am high-voltage danger;

To the tiny path-crossing turtle

We are all titans.

This vast and ancient world

can make us all feel tiny.

But

wait

For the light

to

slant

just

right

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