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
12 comments:
Love this..Sounds a bit like mine..I guess we had similar experiences..ah, childhood!!
'Hell Racers' .... was there ever a better name for these girls? NO!!!!
I love every word of this energetic slice of childhood!
childhood memories seem to be afoot this week. Thankyou for a nice write...
Even as a boy, I used to be
amazed by the derring-do
of the hell racer girls I
encountered on those snowy
bluffs and closed off hilly
streets in Seattle; and they
all had such snazzy sleds,
unlike the ramshackle racer
my Dad got for us at the
Salvation Army, all glued and
duct-taped up, and ready to
fly into pieces with me on
top of it. Yours was a great
read, and I love your poetic
style and line breaks.
Ou sont les neiges d'antan?
That call to dinner was always SO disappointing! :)
oh yes....that call to dinner! Great read.
...parents ruin all the fun! :). Wondeful imagery and love the fact that girlscare hell raisers too.
Oh, very good! Sorry I didn't see it sooner.
beautiful magpie.
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