Morning run
John Clare Stokes
Fog envelopes the narrow lane of sand
Foot-falls in unison go the thinclad
Silently swing the arms in unbroken pace
Ten feet astride in this syncretic place
Tense with slumbered patience, wait!
Watch for one to spring into a break
Unseen events in foggy Floridian sand
The inner aspiring in each breathless man
A five foot lead from the bunched pack
Pace increased to reel in the gap
In sprinted abandon a lean for a line
Spent on empty the ever ending time
What garland shall this victor today adorn?
What of the others dreams in sand born?
And so ends the morning run in sand
Oh with Joe and boys to run once again!
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