Thursday, 13 June 2013 00:00
They charge and scatter and leap
across the open field,
knowing how much life is to come
in its moment.
We inherit what they inherit.
How hard we have striven, all of us,
in our solidarity. The spectators shout
and cheer and clap them on—not to some
political spin, for which no one cares.
The language of the run says
this is the good life,
that makes the heaven’s sing.
We are the children, running fast
and sure and light, in this world
we inhabit a happy place.
O bright distance!
Your bodies glean the landscape.
Your spirit fuels the flesh, the hearts
and minds of the run, for us all.