Whoosh Poem by Bill Upton

I miss the speed of it all-
The high velocity blur,
The lightning bolt strike capability,
Adrenaline rush moments,
The pumping of wild blood through the veins,
The roar of the crowd-the battle cry-
Still screams inside my head
And can't seem to quiet itself.
The bold, fearless marches through danger zones,
The social situational fastballs
Without so much as the bat of an eye-
Yes, I miss the speed of it all.
We ran sprints without rest breaks.
We ran fast.
We ran hard.
Big highs,
Big laughs,
Big fun.
The speed of youth is eternally addictive.
There is no detox procedure for it.
It is the unquenchable thirst,
The drumbeat of the heart,
The rhythm...
The speed.