Friday, September 10, 2010

pitch, patch pepper

Merging onto the freeway at 264th is hazardous. Too many things to watch out for as you become one with the flow of traffic. It reminds me of skipping at recess as a child.
Two girls would be turning the long, grey skipping rope, while the rest of us formed a wavering line. The girl at the front of the line would lean forward as though to jump, and then back, forth and back, until she reached that critical moment where focus of mind and eye allowed her to leap into the arching rope and skip in perfect harmony, then faster and faster. Pitch, patch, pepper. Such light feet.
But not everyone nimbly leapt. Some tripped and went to the back of the line. That was part of the thrill. The danger. The triumph. The stakes are a lot higher at 264th. Maybe a skipping rhyme would put me in the right frame of mind next time.
Had a little sports car,
went around the corner,
Lemon and Lime, be on time.

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