running haiku

run, expect nothing

after stretching the gate creaks on its hinges

worn tarmac I have forgotten where the joy lies

sand drifts across the pavement I pick up the pace

a wave of pebbles washed up along the shore laughter

the road rises at a blind corner expect nothing

half-way mark the way the sun and the sea dazzle each other

between traffic and the crash of surf the seeds of umbrella pines

in the shade at the water fountain there is nothing sweeter

down-hill the scent of a man who passes me uphill

the yellow stone of the old town across the bay another day

the smell of coffee as I pass the bakery the final push home