Rain

It wasn't long after--
still in the rawness of loss--
Sunday morning a gray day with rain
Was it May?
Such soft rain.

Runners on the pike. Hundreds of them
going by in packs          streaming past
like an old silent movie girls boys men women
graceful loping scissoring legs lifting falling
ballet without      an orchestra
and I began to remember how it was the breathing in
hale     hold     ex     hale lubricious movement
of joints limbs the pavement asphalt black gliding
                    under

I watched for a while       runners on the pike
gray day cool gentle drizzle     cool and still
the rawness of recent loss

Was it May?