When walking on a bike trail I keep a steady pace. 
This seems sensible. If everyone did so, the flow would 
remain constant as long as everyone entered the trail at 
different times. This would avoid the need to pass if 
people didn't pause to talk or gaze at nothing. Sometimes 
I have to pass walkers several times, and there is always that 
period before I separate which is full of anticipation. 
Recently, when reaching my usual spot to turn around, a 
young woman appeared walking in my new direction at the 
same pace. Previously this had never occurred. I increased 
my pace but so did she. I knew it was pointless so I broke 
into a run. At the parking lot, having passed no end of 
stragglers, I noticed an older gentleman sitting in his 
car. He was watching the sani-cans through his rear view 
mirror. His discretion was commendable.

Colin James has poems forthcoming in The Delinquent and Teesta Rangeet. He lives in Massachusetts

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