THE HIGH FIVE

Far, far away, so far off
that all i see
is that unmistakeable bobbing,
a runner comes my way,
the gap between us
closes quickly;
this is my running ground
and i have never seen him.
I raise my right hand,
our eyes are locked,
as we pass we slap hands,
no words are spoken.
It is a moment of truth,
the sting goes through me
as a shockwave.
It was a salute,
a power greeting.

1988