Poem: The Runner

mornings or afternoons
opening that door
sitting across at a diagonal view
he sees her
imagining she did too
or maybe just imagining

large monitors
cover his gaze
past those walls
he wants to talk
shy as a butterfly
he just does not

she is away
in a new land
far far away
chasing her dream
running with passion

tired and jet lagged
sleepless and unsettled
she writes innocently
a 2am email
perhaps unusual
how he sees it

delighted he feels
dreaming the impossible
wishing it were
a reason beyond reason

nervous and impatient
he waits for hours
screen refresh
screen refresh
days and nights
with wishes not despair
another 2am moment
never does arrive