augury doggerel

Sunday, December 29, 2002


Thursday, I broke the kid�s sled and was told I couldn�t use it anymore. Which was true.

Friday, with the backup sled, we climbed seven hills and crossed seven valleys in search of the ideal run. Along the way we picked up another pilgrim and her father (who later broke his kid�s sled). The four of us came out of the woods into a white hollow full of screamers. Three or four dozen boys and girls worked four variously deadly arcs down from where the roots of pine trees hung in the air. A few minders stood by to soothe the wounded. A white dog flew after the fastest sleds. I perched up in the roots and watched the kid, who has no fear, play with gravity. When we returned home five hours later, she was wet and sore and filthy, and I had to explain. To explicate. To extricate.

Saturday, it rained.


Post a Comment

<< Home