The Runner

You ran
and ran
tread worn, limbs wasted
you kept going
further, then faster
then goneWere I to have known
you would be gone
I would still have gone
down the road
where we went

A tree lined gravel road
to a cottage made of stone
flowers in wilt, gardens withered
grasses overgrown and orchards swollen
you said it was a lovely house
while I shivered
we kept going

Unable to keep
I ran out of breath
You, collecting debris
from roadside piles
gathering the clutter
of other times

Your arms,
heavy from carrying
gave out
again and again
Your head,
heavy from thinking
hurt you
again and again

You ran
away and away
and now
you are gone

Published by Adam F.C. Fletcher

I'm a speaker and writer who researches, writes and shares about youth, education, and history. Learn more about me at

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