Stopping by the Track on a Snowy Morning

 For Steph  and nods to Robert Frost, of course.

Stopping by the Track on a Snowy Morning

Whose track is this I think I know.

They are home, asleep in beds though;

They will not see me stopping here

To run the track in starlit snow.

I must seem strange to have no fear

Here alone, without sun’s bright seer.

‘Round the turf without end, I break

Sweat this coldest dawn of the year.

Breathless I go, ignoring ache,

Counting each lap; there is no mistake.

The only sound, my feet’s quick sweep

Over rubber and wafting flake.

The track is dark and the pace steep,

But I have intervals to reap,

And miles to run while they sleep,

And miles to run while they sleep.