Jogging the greenway
head down
I bump from behind
a woman
with a shepherd:
“hey you, watch it”
My sidelong glance of
her leotard shape
hair a field of timothy
eyes color of dry earth
slight smile simmering
  in the heat that radiates
  from my old exertions

In the straight stretch
on my way back, we pass
on the wooden bridge
over Crooked Creek and
pause for canine admiration
local weather predictions
the condition of her fridge
Barely able
to leave the small space
of our separation 
I fight the pull
of calf and thigh
i fight the unintended

                                    Jim Lally