a horror

when your kid goes sledding, watch him.

a young boy playing with his friends

at the top of a snowy hill

(one fashioned from a golf course, which with its deep dives &

cuts made for an exciting & dangerous fight down & around all

of its waves & bends---upon the freshly patted down snow now

covered with a thin layer of ice from the precipitation the

evening before),

gears himself up for his trip down the huge hill---jumping upon

his saucer-sled, one of the best---if you are in any way knowledgeable in

sleds, sledding, and the outside arts of the adirondack

snowy-ness.

 

i watched, probably, in much the same way as

mr. collins supposedly saw the guy watch another guy

drown, then wrote “in the air tonight” about the whole thing---

but unlike the urban legend concerning phil, this was

real.

 

as the child spun down the hill with his hair flying back in the

wind

and a large smile on his face,

with his hands gripped to the sides of the saucer

(no doubt exactly as the instructions said when his parents purchased it for the boy),

my own eyes followed his flight and zoomed ahead of him

as my visual, given the distance, could make out

where it was

that he was going to end up---

and there it was,

plain as day,

a humongous ball of rolled up snow

(far greater than the child’s size at least four times over) & it was

covered in what seemed to be from far away,

a hard layer of ice.

 

i could only imagine how thick the ice was

up close & personal.

 

& even though i was a teenager

i felt deep down in my sarcastic, sardonic, &

fed up heart,

that this boy was about to come upon a great bit of

pain---

and there wasn’t a thing i could do about it.

 

his eyes wide with horror &

the inability to stop his sled,

only occurred for but a split

second,

because directly thereafter

his head split on the large iceball

and blood spat a bright red

all over the new snow &

ice.

 

children from all over the hill, who

had been happily sledding & playing in the

snow,

began to scream, cry, and run to their

parents.