as i came out
of the hotel, seeking
coffee from the
starbucks a block
away, i was surrounded
by hundreds and hundreds
of women who were about
to run in the race for
the cure. all of them
in some sort of pink
garb, or hat, or ribbon.
and as i moved, stuck
in this throng of pacing
people, stalled, unable
to go back, or forward
awaiting for the gun
to go off so that the
race would begin, i
thought about how
wonderful this outpouring
of love and caring was,
and i pondered the idea
of needing my own personal
race,my race for my
own cure. and laughed.
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