Sprint

One word, one word can change a dynamic,
One lousy word.

This humidity made our run feel like a shower,
Heavy legs made walking tempting.
We all talked, taking it easy through the soup
When I casually threw out a joke.

“We should sprint down the hill.”
Sprint was the lousy word.

Only one in the group called my bluff.
Of course it he was the fastest of our group
Maybe more than two minutes per mile faster than me,
Check that, more.

“Okay!”
And off we went.

It was supposed to only be down the hill,
But the greyhound decided to push it around the pond.
Towards the end, my lungs were aching, my form lost,
His brow nearly dry.

I’ll never use that word, again.
Sprint.

2 Comments

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s