Morning Runners

Endless mornings they rise from deep slumber Amber sun gliding up at an ungodly number. Footsteps creep down stairs and out from garages Running races through streets like faded mirages. Crisp breezes grab at loose tendrils of hair Swept atop sweaty brows in a tangled affair. Hearts beating bass – p-pout p-pout With accompanying lungs – in out in out. Miles on end at varying paces They run like a fire that the morning embraces.