When it feels like a track

Around and around
Ovular conjunction
Connected continuity
Sprinting, homeward circle
Will I let up?
While there's still drink in my cup?
When the scene is the same
Around every rounded corner
Keeping on
And keeping on
Becomes a trudge
And then a dredge
Pulling up the muck
Stirring in the stuck
Yet when I break away
Turning opposite the next curve
And rather following the contours of the landscape
Rather than the grainy flex of the oval
I can go and go and go
Until my hunger defeats my legs
Or my sleep defeats my eyes
Either way
It's a handshake
Rather than a fight
So getting of the track
Seems to be the way
To shake hands
And keep going