Midnight Run III

 

When our hemisphere turns from the sun,

It’s a privilege and a right to run in the night.

Across the globe we nocturnal beings run

Without a torch or equivalent light.

 

When Earth, west to east, has inexorably spun

For twelve long hours when the sun ruled bright,

By midnight our world has darkened and cooled.

For us restless nightowls the time’s now right,

And into the street by our moon we are pulled.

 

Relaxing into a comfortable pace,

We run with awe under clear night sky.

Our thoughts meander through limitless space

Beyond Andromeda and Cygnus on high.

 

From distant streetlamps through the trees,

Patterns of light dance on dim city walls,

Choreographed by a sleepless breeze.

On the horizon far off, a meteor falls.

 

Mellow with endorphins and long, relaxed stride,

For mind and body, miles do we roam 

In the wee small hours. We serenely glide

Under an immense, glittering dome

Dominated by Polaris, our reliable guide.

 

We resist all thoughts of returning home.

 

—Will Walsh  2021