All of the amateur runners come out after
high noon.
Morning marathoners and after-work sprinters
Jostle for footspace along the lakefront
And try to share asphalt-gravel-sand space
With insistent and helmeted bikers
Who'd rather not share their view of the
Lake Michigan waves and grass and steel forest
Rising up ahead - the urban topography and concrete wilderness.
Afternoon joggers are slower, redder, dare I say fatter,
And smile to one another in that knowing way,
Sharing the secret of an off-peak run,
Hidden from anyone who looks good running without a shirt.
We are not the popular ones.
We are the junior high geeks, the high school math team,
The perfectionists who prefer not to share our art
With those in the know
Until it's up to par.
We just want to fit in.
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