Water Bottle

She held a water bottle
	and I could see the water
through the clear plastic,
	and how it stormed as she jogged
past me and down the fallow road
	(fallow because it was flat
and empty; fallow for ambience)
	and I remember jogging myself,
once, when I was live and younger
	and saw horizon instead of gravel,
my sneakers slipping in slick toad,
	flattened, crushed, torn asunder
(asunder for violence; asunder
	for drama); no wonder
I slowed my pace, if you can never
	know exactly where your feet
are going. She knew her way, though;
	I saw she held a water bottle
because that was all she held.