Poem number 13. I run pretty much every day. I see people. People see me.
What a Runner Sees
I see an early morning path
the sun through the trees
feel the breeze around my body
the up, down forward motion of my body.
She sees a sweaty, heavy breathing man
a threat, a potential attacker.
I see a queue of cars
one stressed driver per vehicle
going nowhere, belching fumes
a gap in the traffic to dart across the road.
They see another bloody runner
with nothing better to do
sprinting, flouting the road rules.
I see a koala, trotting the pavement languidly
looking for a way to climb the wire fence
to gum tree security
drivers gawking, walkers gazing.
It sees an upright creature moving faster than it can
a foreign being, a predator, a dangerous animal.
I see people walking to offices
checking smartphones, gulping coffee
focussed on anything except the path ahead
minds cluttered with stress and trivia.
They don’t see me at all.
Copyright Mike Hopkins 2013