Luke - 13.5

13.5mi, 1:48:15 (8:01)
Went out to the South end of the Ribbon Trail, took it to the backside of Hendricks Park, then took the road I came out from Relentless Hills onto a week or two ago and followed the same trail in.  Explored a bit of that trail and did some tromping around in brush here and there, and after I'd had enough gallivanting in Relentless Hills I went up Spring Street to Ridgeline.  Took some offshoot trail in there and ended up coming out onto one Barber Drive, which links up to Dillard, which links up to Rexius.  As I was heading toward Dillard, I saw one of those boxes that real estate agents put out that have sheets of paper in them with information on the house for sale.  I stopped to check one out, but the box was actually the Barber Drive Poetry Box, which apparently gets stocked once a month with a new poem.  There was a little note on the box that said "June's poem is here!" so I took one and read it, and then folded it up and put it in my key pocket before heading home.  I took Rexius to Amazon, and did four (4) pullups.
I'll re-print the poem here...I think I should make a point to stop by that box once a month and get the poem and post it with my run.

My Friend


The woman turned when I whistled at her on the street.
I whistled in appreciation of her legs and ass.

"Were you whistling at me," she said.
"Yes," I said, "I'm sorry. I thought you were a friend of mine."

That was true. I thought she was a friend of mine.

She told me she had no friends. She told me
she was a theology student and was new in town.
She asked me what my friend was like.

I told her about my friend.
How my friend had been raised at a mission in the jungles
of Central America; how her parents had vanished one night when the security forces raided the village;
how my friend had been held in a bamboo hut
blindfolded with a scarf; how she escaped
when she bit off the finger of a soldier who was raping her.

"Dear God," said the theology student.
I liked the innocence of that expression.

And then she told me her story.
And while she told me her story I watched a shiny
beetle crawling through her hair. I didn't know what to do
so I kept watching and when she finished her story
I said "Dear God."

She put her arm through mine.
"I've made a friend," she said.

She told me she could tell I was full of God.
"In a private way," I said, and she understood.
She said she would like to meet my friend.
"You can't," I said. "My friend's dead."