Poetry

The Morning Run

"Early Morning #1" © Dan Wartnaby, 2006. CC BY-NC 2.0.
Early Morning #1” © Dan Wartnaby, 2006. CC BY-NC 2.0.

An alarm clock that turns on a light
slowly
over the course of thirty minutes.

I still set my phone
to scream at 6 AM.
Just in case.
For consistency.

Some days I get out of bed easy.
Put on shorts, a sports bra, a tank top.
Pull on a highlighter-green hoodie.
Slip into electric-pink running shoes.
Head out the door.

Sidewalks are quiet.
Air still heavy
with last night’s
graffiti and
the echo of
broken bottles
that once held
Olde English 800
or Mad Dog 20/20.

People already dressed
and ready for the day
are paying for parking.
Each wearing their own
sticker-adorned
construction helmet.

We smile.
“Good morning again.”

I cover the miles
one step at a time.
One heavy breath in
and one out.

The rhythm of my footfalls
rock my body awake
while my brain rests.
Sorting through the things
I want to do today.
Decluttering absentmindedly.

Some days
I’m astonished by how quick I am.
How easy this is.

Others
I feel like
each push off
and every landing
may kill me.

2 thoughts on “The Morning Run

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