this morning is clear and bright and i could run
run out the door and down the street
past the houses and the school and the post
office past the two slow donkeys in thier little green field past
one two three churches past this town onto blacktop highway solid
white line beside i could run far and fast and free past
all my fears and insecurity i could
run until my lungs burned and then lay down in some
farmer's meadow under the shade of a cottenwood tree
and
i
could
just
breathe.