Submitted Date 05/29/2019

I wanted to write poetry

about a game I played with a fifteen-year-old

but the words weren't there

we stood on opposite sides of the river skipping stones

trying to hit one another

the river was lower than usual from lack of rain

and the water seemed to stand still

two men fished a little ways upstream

which was nothing worth writing about

I couldn't find the words to describe the boy's wild throws

or how his rocks either sank heavily and quick

or flew inches above my head

I wanted the poem to be in my favor

I had a system –

smooth flat rocks thrown low to the water

skipping above the surface across the river

in an almost perfectly straight line

- and because I refused to be bested by a teenager

but I would be lying if I said it worked to my favor

where I had accuracy on my side he had youth

and the flailing arms of the young

sometimes beat the wisdom that comes with age

and as I write this I know it as pure nonsense

it was luck on both our parts

he was just luckier than me

and it took well over an hour

to sift through the storm clouds in my head

to come up with this pitiful poetry

and all I have to show for it is stiffness in my body

from chasing my youth

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  • Miranda Fotia 2 years, 4 months ago

    As they say, youth is wasted on the young. Every time I try to compete physically with someone in their 20's, I am reminded the next day that I made a big mistake. Great imagery in this piece!

  • Kiersten Felch 2 years, 4 months ago

    I love the titles of all your poems, they always add something more to your poetry.

    • Ken Tomaro 2 years, 4 months ago

      Honestly after writing the poems themselves coming up with names for them is the most difficult part for me.

  • Kiersten Felch 2 years, 4 months ago

    Well, your titles always feel very effortless to me and they are very much apprecited!