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Tag Archives: winter

backyardea

remember our back-yard growing up?

all of those kingdoms and nations

and our Indian tribes?

The tree-house that we’d fill with waterballoons

by day

and sleeping-bags by night?

The secrets we’d tell

behind the garage

and the twigs and the mud

remember the hose in the summer-time

and the snow in the winter?

the forts and the acorns?

The cloudy days when we’d sit up the pine tree

or the clear warm nights

when we’d play man-hunt in

the neighborhood?

remember the sound of the leaves rushing through the trees

as the wind would blow?

the army men

and the bow that dad would let us shoot

the old pile of logs that we would find worms in?

remember trying to dig a swimming pool,

but it was just a hole?

when we would hide from Amir

behind those bushes?

remember when we had that old rope to swing on,

hanging from the big tree?

remember when we’d race down the sidewalk

on wagons and skateboards

with old plungers and fist-fulls

of pebbles?

remember going back there to hide

or to cry in the bushes

when we didn’t want to be found?

remember all the army-men

and the times when the world seemed to end

at the fence by Mr. Anseley’s house and the sidewalk

in the front yard?

Well I remember,

and I don’t know why

but it makes me cry

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Winter’s Test

The air is crisp. A serene scent of pine lingers faintly in the frosty air. The sun, poking its dim rays from the heavy clouds, barely exists in the wintry sky. The temperature is around a comfortable thirty degrees. It is a skier’s paradise in Stowe, Vermont today. The snow is extra fluffy, which resembles the texture of a pristine marshmallow. Whoosh! Only the echoes of skiers crunching into the soft frozen precipitation can be heard on the huge mountain. The young eleven-year old is about to commence his expedition down a double-black diamond ski trail. He knows that a double-black diamond is the most challenging trail on the whole mountain.  This truly marks his first risk or challenge at this point in his life. The boy can feel his heart pounding with fear throughout his lean chest. Adrenaline rushes through his veins like the Colorado River runs through the Grand Canyon.

As he looks down at the one hundred degree angle of sheer ice and treachery, the roots of his body formally known as legs are shaking rapidly as he takes his first step onto the slope. He descends down the path, gingerly whisking through the synthetic, powdery snow that the machine just laid down. It is only there to conceal the skiers and snowboarders’ mortal enemy: ice. As he glides over the ice, his razor-sharp edges of the skis carve into the ice, which is synonymous with ice skating. The youthful skier is making his way down the mountain in a rather methodical manner. Pole plant and turn, pole plant and turn. Other skiers watch in amazement as the boy rips through the mountain’s terrain! This shows his maturation, his ability to overcome adversity, and his fears.  The warm, tantalizing aroma of the Waffle Haus invades his nostrils as he reaches the base of the mountain. This marks the conclusion of the double-black diamond trail. Filled with absolute joy, he throws his hands into the air as if he just won the seventh game of the World Series!


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