Onward

One day, I met another runner on a plane. We were both flying from Amsterdam. He was from Switzerland. This is our story.

Old Paths
New trails
Old places
New faces

Cobbled stones and an always hunger
Carry onward
These ever-moving feet
To places ancient and not well known
To different things
Far from home
Smiling faces moments ago foreign
Now chatting and laughing
A friendship is born
But onward now!
Different runs
Different races

Old paths
New trails
Old places
New faces

anthony forrest