markbousfield

THE SINGULARITY

When I am running
the singularity
is all that matters,
my body tied in motion pounding the beat of the heart
into the tarmac underfoot.

the heat of the skin warmed by perspiration
glistens in the eye of the runner,
the course swept in light rain
and invective winds.

The knowing half smile exchanged with other furrowers.

Glimmered in the coincidental rotations of the earth
we are in the same place at the same time with the same purpose.

Well worn foot fell paths and breathing rhythm echoes
become are the acoustics of the skeleton,
piston pumping muscles,
air expelling lungs.

Vital. Dynamo. Singular.