.
I.
Late summer
the first yellow leaves fall
evening comes early
and nights are cool again.
.
II.
We run down the shady path
In mid-afternoon, sweating from every pore
As if we had escaped.
Entunneled beneath the spreading hardwood trees
The climbing, swarming vines
The tall weeds.
.
We pass the ruins of the old farmhouse
Once a wonder to us all
Without so much as a nod.
We run, looking ahead
Knowing why, but without saying.
.
We run deeper, beyond the last landmark we know
To hide, to get away
From the confinement and labor that fall will bring.
III.
But the woods do not go on forever
And when we, unknowing
Passed the center point
We kept running
But now we were running out.
Copyright 2015
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