Running

Say “I love you” to the trail at midday.
To the springtime rain
That falls on our secret ruins.

 To our contracting shin splints.
To our flaring tibia bands.
To our muscles lunging over ancient steps,
These are natural machines.
They rust and creak
As they meet the pavement.

Say “I love you” to the pavement.
To rollingrivers running to the reservoir,
I run with you in time with the rain.

Around the bend
Willows quiver in fog.
Our worlds sway
With a violent breeze.

The clouds break free.
The sun catches watery drops in its glare.
We round another bend
And greet the graveyard on a hill.

This is where we will rest.
Our world caught between
The living and the dead.

Say it once, say it twice.
Say it to the trees, to the water.
Say it as though thunder holds us
And begin running back home.

***

The Race

We stand exposed,
Saccharine
Roses
Beside bleating goats.

Gnats swarm
Around barrels of hay
Like forms of
Broken air.

We pool liquids
Into our mouths:
Time filters water
Drained from reservoirs,
Dreamed into faucets.

Starting lines
Have no justice.

Looking backward, then forward,
We remember
Starter pistols
From years before.

How young we were then,
How old we are now.
An ankle flexes. A knee braces.
A love of life fills the bridge.

We erase years
Of guilt and dread
As we gallantly
Drag the sun
Across the finish.

***

Steven Klett is a professional writer living in Brooklyn. He has a Bachelor’s degree in English from The College of New Jersey and an MFA in Poetry from The New School. Steven received the New School 2014 Chapbook Award for his first book, A Field Full of Mirrors. He published his second chapbook, Songs for Gaia, in 2018 and is working on his first full-length poetry book, Say I Love You. He hosts the philosophy podcast Lost Futures: A Mark Fisher Podcast, plays in the bands Light on the Horizon and Goodbye Sky Captain, and has a budding acoustic career.