run

The pattering of the raindrops
on the roof of the windows.
Is this heaven's idea of a
melancholic concerto?

The sky is gray,
but our mood is light,
cos tomorrow's Sunday;
and morning will be bright.

The 1st Sunday of December,
every runner will remember.
The forty two km of physical exertion
and the numbness of the mental satisfaction.

tonight gonna be another sleepless night.
for tomorrow we run at 1st light.

-cj