My Winter

There is no greater perfection than being young in Winter to watch the snow quietly fall, to build upon itself Like the days when I was young and Winter came From the dark gray clouds, white flat ornaments fell We would recklessly run trying to catch them on our warm tongues, stumbling falling in slow motion into the snow, laughing doing what boys do Our truest joy was riding sleds There was a hill with a winding path, from top to bottom After Christmas, every boy would drag their family's tree to the hilltop and toss it onto a bonfire that sometimes got out of control doing what boys do, laughing We would race our sleds, some old, some new and would try to stay on the narrow path winding down the hill, between tall naked trees doing what boys do It would hurt if you hit one and if new you didn't want to drag it home...to dad At the bottom, the path forked the path to the left would dip and rise lifting you on to a frozen road where you sled would glide for hundreds of yards If you were brave you would take the fork to the right where you had a steep drop that increased your speed taking you to a ledge eight feet above a creek Sometimes it was frozen, sometimes not and if you couldn't stop your sled you would fly over into the creek if that happened all the boys would rush down peer over the cliff and if we saw signs of life we would laugh doing what boys do When Winter came and the snow fell When we were young and wanted to laugh doing what boys do...playing 11/17/17 contest My Winter