THE RUN

“The Run”

I ran until my lungs were dry and thin,

I crossed the water where the weeds are high;

I thought I’d lost the shadow of my sin,

Or whatever it is that doesn’t let me die.

My throat is raw. My boots are full of grit.

I’ve pushed through briars that tore at every limb.

I found a hollow where a man could sit,

And watched the world along its edges dim.

I stayed as still as any creature could,

And didn’t make a single, human sound;

I crawled behind a stack of fallen wood,

And pressed my face against the frozen ground.

Then came the step. A slow and heavy thud.

A shadow stretched across my shaking hand.

I smelled the rain, the brush, and then the blood,

And felt a presence that I couldn’t stand.

A finger brushed the collar of my coat.

A coldness settled deep within my chest.

The heart was jumping in my very throat,

Like a bird that’s dying in its nest.

I didn’t look. I simply found the strength

To kick and scramble back into the dark;

To put another field of empty length

Between the predator and its chosen mark.

I stopped where the road begins to bend,

And gripped the rough and splintered fence.

I knew this chase was coming to an end;

The air was thick, and cold, and dense.

I turned my head. I forced my eyes to stay.

I didn’t scream. I didn’t even blink.

The figure stood a dozen yards away,

Right on the muddy, sloping river’s brink.

It wore my coat. It had my heavy stride.

It held its head the way I always do.

The same exhaustion I had tried to hide

Was written in a face I always knew.

The eyes were mine, but hollowed out and gray,

Like windows in a house long turned to dead.

It didn’t have a single word to say;

It simply pointed to the path ahead

Written on March 30, 2026