Cadence

I'd forgotten the plop,
The control of breath,
The grip in the toes,
Like a hand on a cliff.


I'd forgotten the breeze,
The lack of sweat,
The perfect part,
Like wind-machined effects.


I'd forgotten the dark
The footfall depths,
The reckless heels,
Like crutches on steps.


But most of all,
I'd forgotten the pump,
The master muscle,
The secret center,
Like the drummer in the back,
Saying, "follow me."