Poem Of The Day: Running With Your Arms Out

Running With Your Arms Out

Driving across the Midwest
You want to stop the car
Run out onto the vast plains
With your arms out
Feel where the sky touches the dry yellow earth

The air seems cleaner
Your pores open to feel the air and breathe
Like you’ve always promised them they would

You want to be a part of that Midwestern painting You’ve seen
You want to run through a Jon Steinbeck book
You’ve read

But you don’t
You’re logical,
And your friend
Is a bummer
“What would you do once you got out there?”
“We don’t want to get in trouble”
Finally, you’re convinced
“Yeah, I’d just pant hard, walking back to the car.”

You can’t stop the momentum of the car
Or your life
You can’t push down on the brakes
And walk out onto the earth
That’s touching the sky

But that’s not me
I always make sure I pull over
Step over the fox fence
And run
With my arms out

Poem from The Gypsy Mile available on Interpunk.com

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