Gave up my running shoes
Tied the laces together
Fired them over a power line
They dangle in surrender
A white flag
A finish(ed) line
They say that means death
I believe there has been
The death of my fleeing
My flight
The wrong kinda fight
If I run now
My soles and soul
Will feel
Every
Bit
Absorb the pavement like fire
The rocks as nails
No pounding now
But for my heart
Inside my chest
Staying put
Standing still
Not outside of
Or in front of
But with me
Even if on my sleeve
A game of chicken
I dare not move
This lane that is
12 feet of space
Of road that is mine
To walk straight on
No matter what
What comes this way
SHE GILDS THE LILY: a lavish waste of words and wonder 