Run from him, Run from him,
Night and day I run from him.
Minutes pass; hours flee,
Yet,
I cannot escape from him.
He seeks me out,
He knows where I hide.
He makes the law,
Oh God!
Must I abide?
The answer always comes,
The answer always comes.
Not if I escape.
Not if I escape!
I hurry through plains
And crouch behind hills,
Clawing at snow and ice,
I reach frozen peaks,
Alas – he’s on the other side.
Dodge the moon, never in the sun,
Curse the light and live in the black.
Not seeing him, I still
Tremble from the breath on my back
I’ve traveled far; I’ve glanced at beauty.
Never to admire, never to stay.
And now,
I’ve lost my way.
I’m tired weary and sick --
I know that I will die,
But if by death I can escape
There is no need to cry.
They think that I am dead,
So they put me in a box.
My eyes are shut,
I hold my breath
Bob Willner, a lawyer and writer in Chatham, New York, will read from his memoir on Saturday, December 15, 2008 at 5:30 p.m. at Stageworks in Hudson, New York. For reservations, please call (518) 822-9667
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