For Good

It’s mid-May, and good
people are out
running in my neighborhood—

varicose, diastolic,
neoplasm, lymph, triglyceride.
Running till July

and hundred-plus highs hold
them and good
intentions at bay. I’m

trashing on trash
day, looking for good stuff
people throw

away—lamps, lists, bottles,
wattle, scars.
I’ll trash, they’ll run—

till we’re all good
and done.
Each year, the Cancerthon

passes my house, done
for good
and fun. They run

and walk and run. See
Spot run. See
Sally and Dick and Diedre

run. See all
things shine by the road
in the sun

till each is worn
out of breath, and we’re all
at rest and good

and done. Wind, fend, send,
find, vine—
Fermata. Fortissimo.

Quietus, coda, gift
and Grail.
Finish Line. The End.