The Monosyllable

One day
she fell
in love with its
heft and speed.
Tough, lean,
fast as light
slow
as a cloud.
It took care
of rain, short
noon, long dark.
It had rough kin;
did not stall.
With it, she said,
I may,
if I can,
sleep; since I must,
die.
Some say,
rise.