the race

you see the runners
coming around
the lake, with their
numbered bibs
flapping
in the breeze,
sweating and red
faced, checking
their watches
for time,
and you notice
one woman eating
a brownie as she
runs at a leisurely
pace. you like
her style and want
her to win, but
she won't, she
doesn't care,
she's just doing
this for the cookout
at the finish line,
and for the brownies
she has tucked
in her hoodie. you
have to admire
that. knowing
what you want out
of life.