I have two more blocks of trees
before I start to run
shielding my eyes
from explosions of sun
and finding again
deserts of asphalt
and again
far beyond
stone and glass towers
where the sad people run
All day among towers
I run with them
but never get close to them
To survive within this dying land
I play sad people’s games
Now they are the hunters
and I am the prey
Now I am the hunter
and they are the prey
Sometimes
we don’t know
who we are
When exhaustion strikes
ripping my lungs and gut
I hide
vomit and cry
and whisper
I am afraid
All this
only to return
to the running
while the sun
hovers and falls
a signal for me
to fall back
to the trees
and the night
and to you
from How to Survive © 1979 by Roger Armbrust
