I know the shadowed path; I feel the ground
like knowing there’s a sun below the line
of morning. With the darkness comes the sound
of hesitated motion. I divine
the path by intuition, mixed with luck.
My faith is firm in nothing but my heart
and memories of roots my feet have struck.
I face the faceless darkness as I start,
aware the only metaphor for dark
is pain; I hold the metaphor at bay.
I run the measured miles of the park,
until the gods of twilight wake the day.
Then free to move within the blessed light,
I catch my breath and run with all my might.
18 miles on the Erie Canal Park Trail
3/22/2009 5:30 a.m. to 7:41 a.m.
This sonnet is available in my book, “26.2 Sonnets for Runners.”