May 5

Remember Hippie Running Man? I still see him every day. My awesome poet sister-in-law wrote this poem about him.

Running Man
his route to work
never varies
past the post office
and community center
down the canyon
lined with sandstone strata
towers rich
with bits of shell
and Paleozoic pebbles

he runs
breath and stride
old blue sneakers slap
on pavement
loose legs
arms swing
in tattered sweats

he comes to the mouth
of the canyon
jogs at the stoplight
and crosses the beach highway

he settles at his rock
next to the sand crabs
gulls swoop and cry
delivering memos
he spends his work day
managing the tide