As I Ran Through My Woods

As I ran in my woods the sun was just rising,
the air was already warm,
the sky light with anticipation.

As I ran in my woods the birds sang,
oblivious of me,
high in the treetops.

As I ran in my woods I read a map of footprints in the mud,
showing last night's visitors,
like a youtube channel.

As I ran in my woods I startled a raccoon,
he stopped drinking from his puddle,
and scurried halfway up his tree.

I stopped running to enjoy this brief,
and one-sided connection I felt,
with this other warm blooded mammal.

As I ran in my woods I felt webs brush and cling,
the feeling was unnerving,
but too small to slow me down.

As I ran in my woods I felt how little I have truly run in my life,
how my body ached for it,
how my body ached from it.

As I ran in my woods I knew my form was awkward,
as were my knee socks protecting me from tics,
it didn't matter.  No one would see me.

As I ran in my woods I marveled at my namelessness,
Not Mama, wife, sister, daughter, friend,
Not Jew, hippie, farmer, girl.

As I ran through my woods the sun began to peek through the trees,
and leave tantalizing golden trails
that begged for faeries.

As I ran in my woods I began composing this poem,
words feeding on words,
and I listened,
knowing that one day,
I will run through my woods,
and be but footsteps on an empty path.