[vc_row row_height_percent=”50″ override_padding=”yes” h_padding=”2″ top_padding=”3″ bottom_padding=”3″ back_image=”56863″ back_position=”center top” overlay_alpha=”0″ gutter_size=”3″ shift_y=”0″][vc_column column_width_percent=”100″ position_vertical=”bottom” style=”dark” overlay_alpha=”50″ gutter_size=”3″ medium_width=”0″ shift_x=”0″ shift_y=”0″ zoom_width=”0″ zoom_height=”0″ width=”1/1″][vc_custom_heading heading_semantic=”h1″ text_size=”fontsize-338686″ text_height=”fontheight-179065″ text_space=”fontspace-111509″ text_font=”font-762333″ text_weight=”700″ text_color=”color-xsdn” sub_reduced=”yes” subheading=”by Ruth Williams”]Risk/Reward[/vc_custom_heading][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column width=”1/1″][vc_empty_space empty_h=”2″][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Racing through
the white bars of snow
your head snaps
trying to see.
Someone on the course
sings happy birthday
as you pass.
A gesture that frees
icy particles
in the air
as if a mouth had warmed
the spot immediately
in front of it.
A poof and
you’re sliding through
glittery curtains
while the runner beside you
waves, encased
in the breath of being seen.
At your childhood home, you
insist on running alone
along the path
that weaves
through long prairie grass—bent
like hair weighted with ice—
behind the Walmart, the subdivision,
in and out of the trees,
visible, then not.
Your mother, sisters
express worry for you
as a tenderness.
But, you are a human animal.
You run alone.
It is your own
mouth-meet-your own
mouth moment
tracking
your footprint, so sure
going away, so quick
coming back.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column column_width_percent=”100″ align_horizontal=”align_center” overlay_alpha=”50″ gutter_size=”3″ medium_width=”0″ mobile_width=”0″ shift_x=”0″ shift_y=”0″ z_index=”0″ width=”1/1″][vc_empty_space][vc_separator sep_color=”color-184322″ el_width=”30%”][vc_empty_space][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column column_width_percent=”100″ align_horizontal=”align_right” overlay_alpha=”50″ gutter_size=”3″ medium_width=”0″ mobile_width=”0″ shift_x=”0″ shift_y=”0″ z_index=”0″ width=”1/3″][vc_single_image media=”58311″ media_width_percent=”100″][/vc_column][vc_column width=”1/3″][vc_column_text]Ruth Williams is the author of Flatlands (Black Lawrence Press, 2018) and Conveyance (Dancing Girl Press, 2012). Currently, she is an Assistant Professor of English at William Jewell College and an Editor for Bear Review.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][vc_column width=”1/3″][/vc_column][/vc_row]