A Long Good Stretch

An interruption, in a way,
Of the more constant aches and pains,
Small-to-middling calamities,

As well as a kind of a check—
You’re still aware, still embodied,
Still capable of a good run—

A good stretch during which nothing
Much pops, no sharp pangs, no harm done.
It’s the exception to the rule

Of the body hobbling around
The brink of authentic old age,
A stage at which volitional

Exertions sometimes punish you
In startling, unexpected ways,
To get another long, good stretch

Without mishaps or accidents
Of any serious nature.
Might as well savor your pleasure.