PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

It's January 15, 1996

My brother and I go sledding down a hill

that's across the street from our house,

It's so white outside the reflection of the sun

bounces off the snow and makes everything

a blinding white confession you can't see,

Some kids from the neighborhood are there

despite the marital problems they deal with at home

so they use this time as a vacation from the feeling of alone,

We all take turns sledding

each kid trying to go faster than before

racing ghosts in a time trial of icy spray,

The hill were on is our neighbors driveway

and it empties into the street

making the lookouts work overtime by yelling "Car!"

if need be,

My brother was up next

and I was the lookout,

I post at the top of the hill scanning the street

and yell to him that it's clear,

He runs like a madman possesed and hits the sled at speed

but that's when I notice a truck throttling down the road,

I yell and crack my voice trying to pierce the veil of excitement
but it's too late,

he sleds out in the road

and the truck comes within inches of making me

an only child,

Filling the seats of pews in a funeral parlor

The isles packed with tired sighs

The truck, now in a ditch, ejects the operator in a frenzied stich

"What in the fuck are you kids doing sledding into the street!"

my brother, shaking like tetonic plates

points to me and paints me suspect

and to this day I wonder what would have happened

if my brother was struck

A memory that follows suit,

as I can't strike it