It's only fitting that I rattle and whine
After twenty-seven years and three hundred thousand miles,
But then I quieted down for a minute.
At least, I only made the noises of someone who's still in it.
I was reminded of how things were when I was
Young, strong, fast and vital, because
Running, I stumbled over my second wind, at last,
Or perhaps fell, euphoric, upon my last gasp.
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