Trying to Stay Even

Jonathan Moya reads Trying to Stay Even
In the mild June heat
just outside my window
a mom with stroller
races by me
never to be caught.
My slow tingling feet envy
her swift muscle flow.

I imagine her heart
beat rapid yet smooth
like a robin in flight,
mouth full with new twig,
no sore wings from miles flown—
happy with joy
and accomplishment.

Yet, my heavy breath
falls heavy and slow,
lingering,
dropping my soul to the
dark floor, heavy and slow,
urging, urging, my cavity’s
ghost to catch even
with that long stride.