Go Sled

towering monster
is not an apt description
for our officially sanctioned sled hill
city fathers merely quivering
in the risk and liability nightmares
of making a mountain out of a molehill

and yet
21st century young Kenevils
on mass-produced polyurethane/polypropylene disposasleds
(waxed steel and wood rails apparently class actioned out of existence)
find new/old ways to feel newly alive
improvising danger like Snowpants Miles Davis

“let’s play cards going down”
says my son
wielding his imagination like an emergent superpower
but we don’t have a deck
says his father
suffering the long term effects of kryptonite exposure

the looks he gets from his mother do
occasionally
have their desired effect
cutting through the haze, igniting comprehension
oooohhhhh… … …
right, let’s play cards

“you sit on front facing back and
i'll sit on back facing you”
you’re sure about this
“dad”
mmmmk, here’s seven cards for you and 7 for me
“great, lets go!”

wait! how do i hold my cards and the sled at the same time
“dad (three letters transfigured into 2 syllables), gravity is our friend”
strains of some long-forgotten truth echo within
so i shrug my shoulders
ok, let’s go

i contemplate the fickle nature of gravity’s acquaintance
as i tumble
head over heels
the world a cacophony of dead grass and live snow
as i lie
in my final resting place
pondering the infinite grey above
my son
simply vibrating with laughter
tackles me shouting
“i won! i won!”

which, i guess, is true
he’d laid down aces
and i hadn’t even had time to play
before my cards and i went flying

as we grin together
the playing cards softly fluttering to the ground around us
i think to myself
this time, i’m asking for nines