Peace of Movement Jogging South Lumpkin sidewalk,  cars sprint ten miles over, gusting  past, even when the wind naps —  but I'll find the silence, or reopen,  so quiet will slide inside.  Slow, my pace, while I open the unnoise —  nerves and pulse ease, each foot gently striking,  then a green voice whispers in pedal C,  motion is life,  tone felt not heard — audible  to only the oldest elephants.  Middle School Our most direct route home  took us past Old Man Peterson's pee