Never did the street lights seem so far apart
as they did when she would run between them
fast on the first set, slow on the second
that perfect moment between day and night
It is impossible to cling to both sides
but if she selects one, she admits
the other is not right.
So she runs like they ran at 6 a.m.
pretends not to hear his bitter words
about how she’d stolen his life.
But they pound in her head
as her feet carry her when her heart can’t.
Fall is coming, there’s a change in the air
She runs fast as she can from all the pain
away from that summer’s sin
And when winter is silent and dark,
she imagines, he will look through frosty windows,
feel a chill as the light comes on an instant too late.
———-See Chris’ street lights poem here.