After months of heat,
The air is finally cool and damp.
Spider webs sparkle in the trees-
Woodland chandeliers.
Farther down the trail
Young barn spiders sit in rows
In their webs, lined up on fences
Like children in Sunday School.
The spiders and the runners
Are the only ones awake.
I rarely run so early.
My legs refuse to settle
Into their usual steady pace,
But I don’t mind-I’m busy gawking.
Halfway through mile two,
My shoes are already soaked.
I imagine the dew on my ankles
Looks like diamond-spangled socks.
“Kiss my ass, Cinderella,” I think
“but you’d have to catch me first.”
Reaching the halfway point,
I am feeling
Warmed up and steady.
The world is warming up with me.
The sun turns the mist white-gold,
Then disintegrates it.
High and far, the fog returns to the sky.
White clouds, blue peeking through.
The little old ladies run early.
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