I was young-
When it happened.
Snow was drifting down from steel skies,
Tumbling in slow-motion,
My fingers were numb, my gloves thin.
The neighborhood children all gathered,
Clad in winter coats, scarfs and mittens.
Across the street from my father's house-
The neighbors had a tall hill,
And we would ride our sleds until the sun went down.
I wanted hot cocoa,
My brother wanted to race.
He told me to stop whining,
I was the younger brother,
And he was always right.
Then the snow stopped falling,
And we knew- I knew something was going to...
I couldn't feel the cold,
Everything was light, weightless,
And my feet
And I knew I'd fall back to Earth,
The hill, my friends, my brother grew smaller.
Then, I saw myself-
Tumbling back down.
I awoke with a start,
Today we'd be going sledding.
My brother would want to race.