Pick Up The Pace By Kelly Stark

I never know who they are, make up names. My shape fills out an odd smock. I drop pounds and soften. We’re in the wrong park. I ask why, forget listening. Distracted people playing toss with babies. Dogs wagging their tongues. Old men drinking bags of paper and young women speed walking and everyone all sunburned to death. I remember when the pond was ice covered, that snow white slick, and wonder how it would now feel to wheel over. We stop short, stare at rippled mud. The man points a distance and moves his mouth. Nothing but slow buzz tumbles out. The sky darkens a shade. A horse trots by. Joggers pick up the pace. I’m ready to be force fed.

© 2014 Kelly Stark

Kelly Stark has been a songwriter for a long time and only recently started writing stories. She has some things forthcoming at Cease, Cows, and Gone Lawn.

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