Hour 1 – I am

I am the dreamer stirring in their sleep

And waking to a world devoid of rest

I am the things that I decide to keep

The tokens that I clutch against my breast


I am the thunder hiding in the clouds

The pouncing of a cat, intent to startle

I am the figure underneath the shroud

Giving way to silence that is mortal


I am the ocean roaring in the dark

I am the light of the eternal spark


I am the thing that is recycled

I am the lover of the cycle

First time runner

Over the years, my words have gotten away from me. I have not seen nor heard from them. Not a note. Not a letter.

I leave the lights on for them. The nights are silent without the faint, persistent scratch of pen carving meaning into paper.

Here I will run after them with fire blooming at my heels.

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