TIRED MAN

He ran through the park,
up the hill, across the fence
to the tree.
The moon slipped across his chest,
Like moving stripes.
He sat under the tree.
Fighting light,
varied his image.
He spread his legs,
With grunt, and exhaustion.
It pushed him further.
His eyes giving out, and
dappled specks
Of moon
Rested him to sleep.
— Cam Ie

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