sledding

                                                  SLEDDING
                                                           
                                        Whoosh!  Down the hill I go

                                    Rushing down the powdery snow

                                  The cold bitter wind stings my face

                                           Rushing down, in a race

                                        I can’t move, I’m frozen still

                                   Rushing down the white sleek hill

                                    I see the bottom, I’m almost there

                               Rushing down, the wind sweeps my hair

                                   I’m at the bottom, I skid to a stop

                                  It was really fun, off the sled I hop

                                        I’ll go again, I run to the top