Like a gazelle
Long strong legs
With muscles pulsating
Etched in golden skin
Running to the beat of the drum.
One lap
Two...
Mind free
Except for the count
Fourth time around
Striving to conquer this stone and iron
Trap of water.
"Reservoir!" he cries, "I know not your strength
But watch me run around your dormant soul!"
Sixth lap...
Running to the beat of the drum!
Lungs clear as crystal
Head high
Keeping a steady gaitRunning rhythmically
To the beat of ther drum...
Echoing from some distant place -
Saying, run, runner, run
While I make you music!
Tenth lap,
Done!
Dorothy Alves Holmes
A Poet Who Loves To Sing
(On Saturday mornings you could hear the drums and see this runner...as described above,
In Druid Hill Park in Baltimore, Maryland where I lived.
1976)