My body heats up, sweat contained beneath my clothing. Thoughts shore
up, and are then released onto the canvas of a white snow blanketing the
pathway. A crackling underfoot of my sneakers, as slushy ice meets the pounding
of my steps. The birthing of what appears to be a ‘winter turned spring’ sun
today will soon melt branches encapsulated in a hood of ice. My sneakers
sit up firm in their affliction while crossing over the icy patches.
Flickering my eyelashes, tiny beads a cold sweat begin to cover my lids.
Flakes filter down from lashes to face, melting away as they collide with my
breath. Pulling my hand into my sleeve, providing it shelter from a contrast of
two worlds today, as spring and winter play a game of tug - of - war amongst
themselves. Wound stinging, winter still nips at my face, as the continuance of
my sneakers dance along, on a path well worn, almost drunk on a silent surrender
I run four miles, then return to home.
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