Trees, magic, kindness
No matter how often it happens
there is still something magical
about running between trees,
between two flanking rows of poplars
or around the rolling trails
in the woods, the spindly light-seeking
trunks moving in the wind, or here
in open fields along a path between
two oaks ignoring the call of autumn
and taking things in their own time.
And today the magic is heightened
by the warmth of the winter sun
and the word I have learned for that:
apricity. The consonants sparkling
on my tongue as I feel the heat
on my face, stepping over puddles
wearing their wrinkled coats of ice,
and take the track towards home.
Then wondering whether I should
stop or carry on running when I see
the unleashed dog ahead. But a woman
calls it to heel, stands fast at the side
of the barren field so I don’t have to
make a choice. Thank you, I say. So
lovely, isn’t it. The day, her kindness.
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