04 July 2011

The Sled

when the fence around the yard stood
taller than me

i listened to the old man next door whistling
and scraping away
i grabbed a stool that Dad used

to paint the black shed roof
i peered over 
he told me it was a sled it was so big and sleek that i knew it would soar
down the big hill when the snow came
when i asked what he needed a sled for
in the first place he said
that man always needs a way 
to get away
that winter i built an igloo and sat with 
ice chips melting into my socks 
and thought i understood what he meant
life passed like ears stuffed with cotton
years later i went home and my neighbor
had moved out but the sled still remained
rusty and peeling in the yard
i thought about fixing it up 
getting it together
venturing out into the
Great White North
then i noticed a tiny set of black hand prints
on the fence and changed my mind
it isn't a method of escape that man needs
it's something to guide him home


the walking man said...

Good point Chris. Well written free verse. That metaphor of the black hand prints certainly for me set the tone for everything that came before it. Nicely done.

Chris said...

Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it :)