Uncle Bob's Words

Words, poetry, stuff like that

Back when I was running

Back when I was running, I rose early (still do)

At 4.

I’d make coffee.  Feed the cats.

I’d head out by 4:30 into the cool predawn.

I avoided lights.  I needed my night vision.

Red lights are okay, greens kill night sight.

I knew a street void of traffic signals,

High and flat, cozy homes a yard away.

A friendly dog occasionally

Would join me for a block or two,

Then, lifting his head at me,

He’d peel off to other pursuits.

And I, in the rising dawn, would think of pancakes

And bacon

And run back home.

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