Sliding

Here is another attempt at a poetic memory.

Sliding

We were lucky.
Our own backyard sliding hill.
Horses recently vacated,
lumps of manure still present.

Bundled against the cold,
snow pants, heavy coats,
freshly knit mittens covering tiny fingers.

Piling three on the toboggan, Dad gave a shove.
Zooming, flying, shouts of glee broke the silence.

Tail wagging, happy black dog ready for a job.
Clipped to the collar
the toboggan followed Smokey up the hill.

Laughing, holding hands,
we trudged up the hill.

Do it again!

The Boat

I recently attended a program on writing your life story in poetry. The assignment was to take a photo and write a poem about it. Here is my attempt.

Wooden Boat

Wooden boat; American flag flutters fully in the breeze.

Classic- Dad's pride and joy.

Touring the river, miles of water

Waving to friends at backyard barbeques.

Fishing crappies, sunfish, bluegills.

Three small children

Cane poles tangled.

Waterskiing-with big waves challenging

Splash!

Circle to pick up skier.

Smaller waves; skier upright.

Safely on shore.

A new generation enjoys.