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  • Scott F. Parker

Haikus

How lucky

to be a runner—

or anything at all


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When the snow melts

and underneath it

are footprints


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A run

like a blossom

on the branch of an old tree


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Just running

through the hurt of life

like a falling leaf


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Cloud of breath

in the air—

cold body on the move


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At the end

of the long trail to fulfillment—

another run

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