Night Running

I asked my friend (yes, the same one who suggested that I write a poem on penguins) for inspiration and he said I should write a poem on night running. I must applaud this idea, although night writing seems to be a less successful endeavor for me. Most of my recent poems have been in free verse and this is in rhythm so it's a bit odd-sounding to me but... oh well.

I'm leaving the state and, for some of the summer, the continent, so I cannot promise any poems in the next two months. HOWEVER, I will certainly try to get around to writing in Spain and hopefully by the time I get back I will have a significant amount to post all together at the end of summer.

Night Running
It's such perfect weather, the air still and dry
A brilliant moon rises in the cloudless sky
There are no great winds, but a delicate breeze
Floats by, barely noticed, hiding between trees
As I run alone at the end of twilight
The scene's indistinct, but with speckles of light
A couple of lamps, a bedroom, and some stars
The occasional headlights of one or two cars
But shh! Beyond that it's all dark shades of grey
The silence and darkness veil all that is day
Protected suburban folk just cannot bear
Such unsafe practice times-- "You'll get hurt! Beware!"
But I in my old shoes and thin cotton tee
Can finally taste what it is to be free
In the still of the night, feeling one with the wind
Free from all that I've worried and all I have sinned
Not quite running away, but to get it all out
In lieu of a punch or a rage or a shout
For here, it is silent, just me and my soul
And finding wherever, my singular goal
And though I do not for an instant stand still
I find clarity in each grueling uphill
A run though the city while it itself sleeps
My stresses and worries and secrets, it keeps
And I, without judgment or fear or distrust
Find peace in running through an urban world's dust