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Amanita’s poem deal with the grim realities of life and a resolve to achieve, exclusively for Different Truths.
It will be a lonely run.
The run-up to the finishing line.
It will be not be fraught with
the joy of a cheering crowd,
regaling faces, hopefuls
gathering to see a good run.
For I have not run well. Never.
For I have let them pass by me
as if it wasn’t a grave track that
I was on, as if the reality of losing
was a myth, a far-off truth.
But I will finish this run.
The desolate winding lanes
will pause to listen to the
patter of my steps, wakeful
to its rhythm and wonder
if I can make it through.
I will run in the rain, more in it
for the obscurity it gives,
for the illusions it makes,
as if there are hands to wave
as if there is a pair of kind eyes
looking on, wishing me a win.
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