Time out I yell, and drop down on the bench,
out of breath, shaky in the knees, sweaty.
We've been doing this for hours, days, weeks
(who knows how long, really), running side by side,
tripping each other up, pushing and elbowing,
obeying the rules perfectly, in this
marathon of accumulated futility.
You slump down, exhausted, glad of a break.
In the meantime, spring has come, unnoticed.
Above, new clouds are light and fluffy;
below, green stains of life are taking hold
like a can of paint kicked on the floor.
In the park, people walk with dogs, and kids,
and music in their ears. Birds catch up on gossip.
You get up slowly, stretch gently where you stand,
then whisper
Come on, and give me your hand.
