When a baby is sick
All he wants to do is stick
More milk inside his stomach
And all throughout the night and day
His tired mother has to wait and pay for
The fever and germs that contaminate
Because the tired child cries often
(Though sometimes he softens
Just enough for a cuddle)
All I can hope for is
A lack of fever
I gave birth to nature baby.
He jabbers as we run outside, taking in the sights and sounds of the trees that we pass.
Sometimes he falls asleep from the rhythm and I can hear him snoring lightly.
I’m sure he dreams of sunshine and birds, because he is always in the best of moods in the outdoors.
When he is big and grown, I hope he’ll be running next to me as we tackle the big miles. His dad will be on his bike, keeping our pace steady, as we jump rocks and dodge branches in the forest.
For now, though, he is a nature baby.
It was a brisk morning, a hard morning
I woke up at six, let my baby sleep a little longer
Eggs and toast my fuel, double layers my warmth
We made it out, eventually
Just a dirty diaper or two, just a tear or two
Just a typical morning, just a jog
We made it to the hill, not so much a mountain
I worried about mud, I was right
The ten miles became nearly eleven and a half, how dare they
I ran comfortably, at first
Was up in front, felt like a speed demon
Two caught up with me, way too soon
But I ran well, felt the burn on the uphill
Tripped a little, took some foliage with me
And made it third overall, first woman
It feels good to race, sometimes
Especially when free massages. free beer
Meet you at the finish line
Today, I tried to go for a run.
Normally, I don’t just try – I do
But today the asphalt was hot
And I was sticky the second I walked out
And it was too unpleasant to continue.
I long for trails.
I started running when I was 18, near 19
It felt nice to breathe in the fresh air
I kept running, it became a daily activity
And I know now I will never stop
Unless physically removed from the ground
This is the account of an unnamed man
Who lost his way in the ways of the land
Who never once thought to look down at his hands
And wonder where exactly to stand
Yesterday, a child died
A father, a sister, a mother cried
And despite a good name it was black and white
The white holding all of the right
Our unnamed man felt a twinge in his heart
Although he was fully engulfed in his part
A witness to tell the details, to chart
The steps of those only a hue apart
We hope he decides to see past the colours
Because life could be a bit easier for others
If lives were respected as though we were all brothers
And the loaded guns remained holstered
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