Poetry

Morning Run

A few thousand feet or several hundred footsteps is all it takes to lose my body

I can’t feel my knees or hips I could be a breeze or a lazy river — waves lapping against the sand

If I go far enough, my body will return and offer complaint; signaling the distance is enough

Today I just go I could run forever living on air alone — and I do

Until I’ve run out of road; that runner’s path made of pavement, dirt, and time

I’m the author of the novel At the End of the World and the poetry collection An Important Sky. I’m also co-host of The Time is Right: Living a Creative Life podcast. You can learn more at kevinjfellows.com