running after dark down
college street,
i pass a group of drunken boys
i pass someone lying on the lawn
i pass trash on a picnic table
i pass into thin air.
my feet are sure on wet pavement
and i don't mind the cold
when it's sharp on my cheeks.
there is a bike
balanced in the crook of a tree
so i stop to look at it.
it makes me want to
continue on for miles,
run away to the coast and
dive into the sea, no stopping.
in my psychology class,
i read that feelings grow less intense as you grow old.
the lows, less low.
the highs, less high.
just another reason to
be young forever,
to fly now, while i still have the wings.