Jogging

Екатерина Макуца
Run your distance
quicker, quicker,
run it easy,
run it fast.
In a lightning,
in a flicker,
from the first one
to the last.

Count your metres
milder, milder.
Fingers clammy,
air – cold.
Empty bus stops
will remind you
to beware
and behold.

Bus stops empty,
windows – lighted.
Air – frosty,
pavement – tame.
Count your metres –
never mind it!
Run your distance
all the same.
1999