We just got our first real snow here and it’s finally time to sled.
Marching up that hill until your legs are wondering why they took the position with the Department of Walking, flying down the hill like the wind, and curling up on the couch with a cup of cocoa.
This poem is about that.
It’s about sledding.
Lay down on a seemingly flimsy piece of foam,
kick the snow until,
you go rushing down the hill,
the snow flies in your face,
don’t hit the snowman of yesteryear,
here comes the big bump,
the one your’re finally big enough to go on,
angle the sled just so,
it rushes closer and closer,
Thanks for reading this, I hope you liked it!
Now a quote from a poem I wrote a bit ago,
“Stand quiet in the silence, listen, listen close.” -Kylli Berg