feet pounding against the stairs.
again
and again
a beat with the panting of your breath
what are you running from?

plead innocent. stand at the jury
say,
“you didn’t give me enough of it.
let me drink until i’m full.”
and when the judge throws the gavel
and it lands dully at your feet,
frown at them.
and then turn to another day,
running all the way
to the entrance.

Feet Pounding Against The Concrete.
the stone is chipping.
You are frail with age.
and goodnight;
to the moon.
to the stars.
and sleep,
eternal.