Passing MAG

By Unknown, Unknown, Unknown

   Coming down the thin gray back

of Chestnut Hill, swept to an easy curve

And rounding the turn at Huckleberry

And breaking into a run

Just before diving at the indigo eye of horizon

While the earth unwound and chased itself to the intersection

I met the imprint of my own sneaker -

one streak across an instant yesterday

left in the sand en route the other way

I waved and said hello

passing myself

in the fourth dimension

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