Girl Running

On my way to the gym
for gentle flow yoga
not a bit sure this is a good idea
because I am recovering
from an infected spider bite

driving the hurry hurry hour
hoping truck to my left
won’t merge into me
hoping those oh-so-special folk
at the posh gym
where, to be sure,
I am also a member,
won’t growl in my face
for being in their space

I round the curve
where Maple crosses Front,
low morning sun in my face
and off to the side
I see a girl, maybe 10, running pell-mell across the lawns
counter to traffic
backpack bumping up and down, big eager smile
and I think of Elie Wiesel’s exhortation,
informed by the unspeakable,
that the big people are obliged to live and work
in faith for that girl,
for her and her sisters and brothers,
we grown-up cynics and sufferers
are required by life itself
by innocence itself
to lift ourselves up
live into our nightmares
with the faith
we only sometimes feel.