I remember the outline
of your back,
striking, intimidating,
each pace matched with
three of my own.
I vowed to catch up to you one day.

We approach the future
and yet you reached for tomorrow
with unwavering confidence.
I hope my trepidation
was never too burdensome.

I no longer lag behind you,
an echo of weaving footsteps,
but with such violent urgency,
I wonder whether you’re 
running from something, too.