In
Snow,
sledding
with the child
on my lap, on Sunday,
with the sky a chill blue
and my legs thrust out to stop
our inevitable crash, even if it breaks
them (my legs) in two, I find I am not as facile
with speed as I once was, unlike my partner who has
gained the smart age of four without loss of confidence
and now spills her giggles onto the slope like many thousand
audible sunlit diamonds, and shakes her snowy curls that fly back into
my face and mouth so I hear, taste, feel again the wild glissando icy sweet of winter.
--Connie Conway
Snow,
sledding
with the child
on my lap, on Sunday,
with the sky a chill blue
and my legs thrust out to stop
our inevitable crash, even if it breaks
them (my legs) in two, I find I am not as facile
with speed as I once was, unlike my partner who has
gained the smart age of four without loss of confidence
and now spills her giggles onto the slope like many thousand
audible sunlit diamonds, and shakes her snowy curls that fly back into
my face and mouth so I hear, taste, feel again the wild glissando icy sweet of winter.
--Connie Conway