august 30/RUN

4.25 miles
veterans’ home loop
66 degrees
8:45 am

Another cooler morning! Sun, a little wind, some glowing water. An annoying chipmunk (Chippie!) that forced me to stutter step when they almost ran right into me. A few darting squirrels. A black-capped chickadee. Fee bee. Roaring falls. A woman talking into her phone while crossing the tall bridge above the part of the creek between the falls and the river. Another woman almost running into me at the bottom of the hill that passes beside the feet (is that what they’re called?) of the ford bridge. Watch out!

Before I ran, I listened to a recording of myself reading a draft of 2 new poems. Then, during the run, I tried to finish one of them. I came up with some satisfying lines, I think. Stopped midway to record them into my phones. I love running and writing!

My poem is inspired by one of my morning open swims when, as I swam across the lake right into the bright sun, I noticed that a swimmer ahead of me was making the water shimmer as they sliced through it. This shimmer was both a signal that someone else was in the water with me, and a guide to the other side. A theme for this poem is celebrating the beauty/wonder of how our bodies become beacons for each other, usually without us even knowing it. An act of love/care for others that we do without knowing or intending to.

Love/ Sara Puotinen

A hand slices through
water and ripples
catch light. Sun swimmer
surface converge. Each
point of contact adds
to the chorus here
here here. Notice our
notes of shimmer &
shine scattered across
the lake. Some of us
are lost, some found, but
few of us know how
our bodies sing.

Not quite done. I thought about how I’m trying to circle around, or sneak up behind?, or catch a glimpse from afar of my idea about love as not something we intend. We, or at least I, don’t go to the lake with the purpose of guiding others across, or even connecting with them, but to swim because it is one of the things I enjoy doing most in the world. Without knowing it, when I’m doing this thing I love, I’m offering love to others. I’m still working on clarifying/condensing this idea. I have decided that I don’t like the last few lines about being lost and found; I need another way to get to: few know how our bodies sing.