the starter pistol rang . . .
I began with a sprint . . .
racing in the Olympics of life . . .
chasing the bronze, silver, and gold . . .
hell I’m going for platinum . . .
I was that confident . . .
heading straight for the finish . . .
in a hurry thinking I’ll get there first . . .
near the end of the track . . .
I jumped over a hurdle . . .
stumbled and fell . . .
vomited wretchedness . . .
paused and struggled . . .
to catch my breath . . .
I want a do over . . .
thinking it was . . .
a trial run . . .
so . . .
I’m flipping from December . . .
to November to October and September . . .
from 2015 to 2014 back to 1999 . . .
wishing for 1976 . . .
when I started running . . .
this time . . .
I’ll take it nice and easy . . .
I’ll be mindful . . .
taking a steady pace . . .
I find . . .
I’m no longer in a rush . . .
©Kimberly Wilhelmina Floria