Chase the Rabbit

There was music in the distance, but I couldn’t hear the melody clearly.
Instead, I heard the pulse of a heart, and then space for breathing.
There was music in the distance, but it was incomplete, so I had to fill in the blanks.
I tried thinking of other things, but the music kept coming back to mind.

I stopped my work, the efforts of my life, to follow the sound.
Outside, the air was moving in waves and the sun was hot.
I was the only creature on the street.
Even the dusty pavement was hiding from the angry glare of radiating headlights.

I stepped toward the music. It was directionless. It was everywhere.
I had no compass to follow. So I walked my usual direction.
Left out of my doorway. Right down the sidewalk.
I was the only creature on the street.

Down a block or two, a woman was gardening.
She says she’s too old to do this much longer. She is ignoring her patch of dirt that is the farthest from her tool shed.
“I’ll find someone with tools to dig that all up when autumn comes,” she says.
She shakes a little when she talks. Cancer survivor. Also had a stroke.
Her yard is iconic. Every last corner is full of flowers.
A large porch swing is in the middle.
The wind is making it creak and sway.

The music has shifted with the breeze.
At this point, I imagine it’s coming from across the river.
The very tiny river.
Maybe it would be better described as an oversized ditch.
A running pile of water, anyway.

Further along in my journey, the noises of animals stop.
There’s nothing here in this wasteland.
But it’s comfortable, in that nihilistic way.
There’s nothing to steal, not even time.

I jog for as long as I can.
Even after a few minutes, I feel like I’m dragging weights behind me.
I feel like I’m running on broken wooden stilts.
My heart muscle is fine. My lungs are good.
But the fibers of my legs turn into sawdust and I become a misshapen sandbag plunging down a gravel avenue.

I traveled this path yesterday.
I will travel this path tomorrow.
I will scan my head side to side.
I will see improvements and I will see the degradation.
I will see new faces and old faces.
Reflected in their eyes will be stories untold.
We never have time to chat.
They are walking dogs or carrying children from an origin to a destination.
They are very serious, taking on very serious tasks.

Me?
I am the ringmaster in the circus.
I am the ticket-taker outside of the movie theater.
I am the shoe-shiner.
I am the subordinate.

Then I close my eyes; I’m still running my route.
I see her face as she’s dreaming.
I lose track of my body while my mind wanders.
The next thing I know I have fallen down a hole into the center of the earth.

I am surrounded by volcanos and bright red lava.
There is a crowd of onlookers.
They stare above my head distantly.
I elbow my way through a group and push the ‘up’ button on an elevator.

It’s hard to keep running.
But how else do you chase a rabbit?