Satilla Shores texts - Frank Alexander Clark, poet

Runner’s Paradox

Strike with a gentle force to release the entangled web of ruminations.
Stimulate atrophied muscles with rhythmic steps of gratitude.
Shine in an ageless concrete that invites heavenly exploration.
Run, Run, Run!

Smell the refreshing aroma of soft winds gliding the human deer.
Smile at faithful stars that guide creativity and store personal best.
Speak to repleted lungs that require tranquility for the journey.
Run, Run, Run!

Fangs dripping of bigotry hasten to attack human black gazelle.
Eyes from afar filled with gangrenous material halt Ahmaud, the once swift glider.
Hearts of infirmity congregate to infect the black dove.
Bang, Bang, Bang!

Wake

Just verdict
a peculiar outcome
for Black mamas
and daddies

hearts flutter
and souls
exhale

Black footed gazelle
renewed in
the ether
a choir of
watchful voices
descend
with cautious gusto

Victory lap
triumphs with
the runner
streets of Glynn County
rise in solidarity

The spirit of
Ray Charles
engulfs sidewalks
singing Georgia
on My Mind

Spirt of Ahmaud

Rise 

Dream

Run

Yearning

Modern-day
lynchings
liquefy on
heaven’s track
Good trouble
a welcomed slogan
a runner’s high
infused with
dopamine
justice

False start
blocks of bondage
disqualify and
detach limbs
of equity
intergenerational
trauma
seeking repair

Restorative Gatorade
novel hydration
an amicable antidote
for
running
birdwatching
driving
praying
walking
studying
sleeping
while
Black

Judicious batons
searching for
equitable
hands
centuries of
relays halted
by systemic
racism

The starting
pistol
a harmonious
sound
for runners’
soles uniting
in love.

Run, run, run…