rationaldementia

"The Race"

We ran the distance from youth to old age, panting with the exertion, wiping sweat from our glowing brows.
Hand in hand we started the race, keeping pace with our shadows at the noon of our lives.
Sometimes I slowed my pace to stay even with you, longer legs slowing.
Other times you sprinted to catch up, short legs pumping fast.

All the time we ran abreast of each other, smiling.

The day is waning, our race is in the home stretch. My lungs tear for air, burning with the need to stop and rest.
But I won't.

I run thru the pain. The stitch in my side lessens.
Our shadows trail us, now, as the sun sets on our lives.
I run into dusk, smiling as I hold your hand.