RUNNING

They tell me that
If a slave ran away
He or she had to
Be quick like dusk,
Able to hide
Under a multitude
of deceptive shades.
I imagine their flight
Must have been something
like a hummingbird's
Perpetual motion seeking
The sweet release of
Freedom, but never
Allighting for more than
The single moment
It takes to drink nectar
Then with calculateable
Suddenness moving on
Moving on before dawn
Could capture them again.