he runs with full force
straight forward
knowing what obstacles lie before him.

in his mind, he has cut a path
through the maze of moving stones
some his enemies
some his own.

toward a place
where satisfaction awaits.

his speed- balanced
against his gracefulness-
gives way to a peculiar dance
in and out of traps.

and as for his hands…

in one hand, he holds his reason
laced and leatherbound
curled ever so tight against his bosom
bicep to shoulder blade
finger tip to wrist.

and with the other,
he makes his motion..
calls shots
and should he drop
it stops his fall
and digs down into the ground
and pushes him up on his feet
in constant perpetuation
with his education imbedded in his legs.

his legs. they carry him
pushing him, dragging him,
spinning and zig-zagging him

toward his ultimate goal.