White Lines. Dark Skies.

This is an ode to my early morning runs that always found themselves guided by the white lines.

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“Shadow figures; trees, homes, buildings, street signs, vegetation.

Bright lights; car headlights, streetlamps, porch lights, flood lights, headlamps,

moonlight, starlight.

Emptiness, vastness, silence.

Early morning, the world asleep, comfortable, warm, easy, peaceful,

enclosed, unaware, sheltered.

The garage door opens.

Darkness and cold envelop the senses.

Crystalizing breath billows into the void, untraceable, but there again.

I depart into the black of morning night,

consumed by the dark skies,

guided by the white lines.”

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