I’d like to share a story one of my New York running friends wrote. Sadly, it’s all too true, but Ari tells it with strength and grace and a perspective that is shaped by those long, lonely miles on the road.
The photo above is mine from the West Virginia highlands, which is not that different from upstate New York. Click on the link below and you’ll see what I mean.
https://ariruns.wordpress.com/2020/05/05/56-miles-in-andes-ny/
sunday morning
by myself
and it’s cold
in the shade
of the tall buildings
as I unlock the doors
of the parish
a full hour before
the service begins
and I know where
she’ll be sitting
her hair falling
onto her shoulders
her brown eyes
and that perfect
practiced
professional
smile
because she is an
actor
like so many are
but she really is
and she is so
nice and friendly
and unpretentious
and
perfect
so perfect
and I can
do no more than
look her way
when she lingers
afterward
by the heavy doors
reading her bulletin
waiting
she has my heart
without knowing
but she is
perfect
and I am me
and the holy
and the profane
can not
be together
but I speak
and
she smiles
and I ask
her name
and I shake
her hand
and I tell her
my name
and I ask
where she’s
from because
everybody has
come to new york
from somewhere else
in search
of
something
cincinnati, she says
now I’m smiling
I’ve seen the
reds play there
I’ve skated
on the ice
at fountain square
and looked out
over the city
from the top
of carew tower
and I turn off the lights
and lock
the heavy doors
and she waits
in the cool
sunday shadows
and we walk
together
in the new york morning
copyright 2018, joseph e bird
Joseph E Bird 