Two Women Rushing on the Road

the road past my front door seems longer when the moonlight
plays tricks with shadows falling through the nearby tree tops
bared of all dying leaves by a forceful southern breeze.
nature has never divulged to me how she decides which
leaf will tumble, or which flower will bloom and in what shape and color, or
which small fish will be picked at random by the roving heron
as its' swift dark eyes look steadily for the slightest movement in shallow waters.
i sometimes see my own reflection in those waters
and realize i look haggard and sick, evidently not the youthful
image which once played so freely in my newspaper mind.
Venus was particularly brilliant in the night sky when i went outside
for a lingering moment to pee, my hair cut short to give myself the aspect
of a more mature man.  no one could see me in the darkness.
love?  is it always a distant planet, a target outside my field of vision
which i cannot reach?  Even with NASA launching me, should i fail orbit?
a young dog barks initially in a low tentative voice and begins a throaty
rumbling growl and i simply ignore her until the barking takes on an urgency
which might be alerting me to a dangerous situation at Three Mile Island.
it's happened before when Jimmy Carter was the Commander-in-Chief,
and i use that memory as a backdrop for possible future dangers.
i've applied multiple ice packs to my temples to no avail.
two muscular women went rushing down the street, under the glow of
star light, moon light, and street light and seemed to abandon their worldly cares
with each running stride as they ran and they did not see me pee.
they did not see Venus, either.  maybe they noticed the moon, which
was as full as an erotic beach ball, but how could i know?
there would be many more runners, their hair streaming out behind them.
but i am in anguish and need to collect myself, like a set of different size stones,
putting each piece in a certain place and remembering why.
my ice packs have melted, like massive glaciers in the northern territories
of Canada, and my neck is now wet and might attract attention if i should
walk into town.  i could take the dog, but she'd scare away the heron.
or buy a costly new car and hire a driver? but  no, i'd prefer to walk.