Don’t tell me how many miles you ran,
Tell me of the flowers underfoot at the first mile
How the birds sang when the end was in sight,
The way the clouds parted for the light.
The night.
Tell me the story of the grass, how it flattened
As the wind blew you by,
How it sprang up again.
The rain.
Tell of the flight.
Don’t tell me how many miles you ran, how fast,
Tell me of the last mile,
and whether you reached at the last.
