If I could run fast, faster than the butterfly
floating in the wind, a monarch with giant wings
I float in the air without a care in the world
could I run faster, passing the clouds in the sky
over my shoulder, the monarch, orange and black
unwinds in the wind, a slight breeze, the piper sings
lighter than the breeze, songs of the wind, a cat curled
delicately soft on a blanket, I run past
run the marathon, counting my steps, repeat back
until I reach eight, start over, back to zero
no, actually, one...my steps following my breath
forget the finish, I won't win, I'm no hero
as if that matters, follow each step until death
sleep after we eat, at the end, this cannot last
twenty six point two, over two hours of distance
forget eighteen weeks of training, year after year
as if I could run faster to reach the finish
sooner than others, all the others, I would dance
the sailor's hornpipe on the platform of the stage
every year I grow older, stiffer, with a tear
rolling down my cheek, how the pain could diminish
trekking in cadence to the three beats of the waltz
hundred eighty steps per minute, oh, the outrage
as the wind of breath cannot keep up with each step
no one notices, as I hit the wall and slow
to a stop, leg cramps, hamstrings locked up, with each rep
hampered by restraints, shackled, fettered, blow by blow
each repetition of movement blames its own faults
blasted butterflies, free as the monarch to reign
under the shadow of passing clouds, the umbrage
taken, an offense, I walk off to start again
to finish the race, not first, nor last, but to train
each day but Friday, Higdon program, run with Hal
remember, let go of the lessons, for courage
flies with the monarch to such heights beyond my ken
let go of language, reason and thought, butterfly
yes, I run to win, to beat the past, so I shall
