runners

when my mother was fifty,
she ran away from her life

just ran

she couldn’t stand it anymore -
her life dictated by the needs
of so many others

so many

since I remember how it
felt to not know where,
how, if she was

I don’t want to run

but as time goes by,
as my life mirrors hers,
as I disappear

more and more

I understand why she ran
and why, if I must,

I will, too