Poetry Friday: A Sledding Poem

Although I grew up on a main street in a city, there were acres of open land across the street from my house. There were hills where my friends and I sledded and ponds where we skated in winter. The property was owned by a large corporation. The company never put up “No Trespassing” signs. A half century has passed since that time and children and parents are still allowed on the property today.

I loved sledding outside in winter until my face and hands and feet had nearly turned to ice. I loved whooshing down the hillsides—the cold wind in my face as the sled runners cut through the snow. This poem is about sledding and childhood and imagination.

I’m sorry I can’t type the end of the poem on Blogger the way it’s supposed to be. That’s okay. I think you’ll get the point that the final lines should be read more slowly as the sled reaches the bottom of the hill.


SPACEMAN

by Elaine Magliaro

Whooshing down the hillside fast
Trees and people blurring past
Runners carving out the snow
Like an astronaut I go
Blasting into outer space
Rocketing at record pace
Through the stratosphere I fly
I’m commander of the sky
Won’t return to Earth until . . .

I reach

the bottom

of the hill.

The Poetry Friday Roundup is at Mentor Texts, Read Alouds & More.