Night Running

Sometimes at night

in the oddest hours

when sleep will not come

my legs forget their age

and whirl

running entire marathons

in my bed

long spasms shooting the length

of my appendages

and exiting my toes

like phantom electricity

I toss and curse

as my legs relive

every race I won

or ran poorly

every game from my youth

every moment I had to dig deep

reacting to a body, a ball

where the oncoming of death itself

takes me back

to childhood relays

running on the last day of school

the shortest in my class against

my best friends for a

brightly colored ribbon

given before participation took precedence

then further on to high school

when puberty took hold at

cross country meets I knew

I could not win and so

would find the most beautiful girl

to inspire me to finish

and then pumping my legs high

climbing the football stadium

after class to make myself better

than whoever I might face in competition

or the time I avoided the sheer murder

of traffic when crossing the street with

little fear for my youthful body

contrasting my adult life

running the courts of open gymnasiums

with others fighting age

doing our best to control what remains

of our broken shells

bringing me to my sleepless nights

where I contend with memories

and I beat at my thighs

crying to myself

“be still now, for once be still

be old, come to rest”

but my muscles flex

and they turn

longing to run once again