from Magpie Tales
cows had carved out the paths
in summer we picked violets there
in winter it was glazed with ice
treacherous on the curves
too close to the partially frozen pond
the sledding course was dangerous
passing for little girls
bundled in our pastel snowsuits
we were hell racers
screaming as we flew
trudging back up again and again
until near dark
mom's call to dinner
ruined it
