Written by Ken Carman

You would expect
the ride to start out fast
Slipping down mother’s slippery slide
into the arms
And an unexpected slap

Then
You’d expect the ride
To get slower
Slower
Sllllllllllllllooooooooooowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwweeerrrr…

So
You might
Intellectually savor
each succulent moment
Melt into the most blessed
beatific
days

But life’s
a slowly sloped hill
You start
Eager to get beyond
the awkwardness
So you push
To go faster
Push
Faster
Push, push, push…

Wait!
What am I pushing for?
Too fast…
Put out your Fred Flintstone feet
Brake!!!
Still faster
Drag!!!
Faster, faster, faster, faster

Until you realize: faster is all that’s left
Then it’s all a matter of… relax!
Enjoy your express ride
Into the gentle baseball mitt called oblivion
“You’re outta here!”
___________________________________

©Copyright 2012
Ken Carman
all rights reserved

Willie Mays’ baseball mitt, courtesy Wiki