Since he injured
his knee,
in his dreams
he flies through
the air,
running on clouds.
It all seems
so ethereal,
so fair.
Upon waking,
he climbs and
descends stairs,
thankful for
a stem cell
transplant
that gives him
two healthy knees
and miles to jog
before he sleeps.
And so he leaps,
a little more like Phil
on the Master’s hill
than one with a
pole vaulter’s skill.
Hey, at seventy-one
it all just seems like
such fun.
Once again he is
on a fun run.