Night Walk

I sprint up the tiny hill, an island
in the rolling park.
The winter brings darkness
at 5:30, everyone snuggled inside
eating potatoes and steamed carrots.
A mouth full keeps the peace. The war
stops only to care
for this basic necessity.

Sammy follows me, panting
jogging her age.
I turn to watch her, four legs
six perhaps. In the moonlight
we look half our age.
I feel mighty, winded.

It matters not what we look like,
me running in Converse and blue jeans
Sammy without her collar.
Scaring birds from their nests
they caw out their warnings.

We do not run for the exercise
to go anywhere, to get away.
We run to feel like wind, we move
trees, shape clouds
tap windows.

I sing, Sammy politely ignoring
my pitch. She sniffs at nothing.
God watches from a lilac.
He doesn't know what he's missing
I think, attempting a cartwheel.

by E. M. Soos