Running Partner

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Rain on our lips

down the path we run.

Through puddles

not around.

 

Mud and moss

wind whipped hair

years of words

between breaths of air.

 

Over roots, between trees

creek waters roll by, unraveling

questions quenched by the miles.

 

Thoughts uttered within the flow

of movement, vulnerability

not possible in stillness.

 

Ali Grimshaw – revision of a poem first shared in 2016

 

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