Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2221274-Slow-Motion
by Norman
Rated: E · Poetry · Entertainment · #2221274
He only moved at half-pace speed
We all just called him SloMo.
Nobody knew his name.
He only moved at half-pace speed;
that was his claim to fame.

He was so tall and lanky.
I guess you’d call him lean.
He was the smoothest walker
that I have ever seen.

He floated and he glided;
he always was so smooth.
If you didn’t watch him closely
you’d hardly see him move.

I’d watch him go past my house
the same time every day.
What was his destination?
Why would he go this way?

So, as nosy as I can be,
I followed him one day.
Yeah, I’m a busybody.
Well, what else can I say?

He shuffled at his own pace.
He wasn’t hard to track.
I simply shuffled after him
at quite a distance back.

He finally reached the schoolyard.
There was a decent crowd.
They played a game of basketball.
These guys were big and loud.

When SloMo reached the schoolyard
they gave him a big cheer.
They shook hands and high-fived him;
they liked him, it was clear.

They huddled up together
as they were choosing sides.
Then SloMo took the basketball
and he began to glide.

It wasn’t in slow motion,
no, that was in the past.
He jumped and ran like lightening.
You should have seen how fast.

He was by far the greatest;
the best one in the park.
And they just kept on playing
until it got too dark.

Then SloMo said his goodbyes
and ambled out the gate.
He dropped into his turtle pace
although it was so late.

Well, we still call him SloMo
when he walks down our street.
But I have seen what he can do,
how fast he moves his feet.

Some day he’ll be on TV.
We’ll watch him play his game.
Then everyone will know of him.
SloMo will not be his name.

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