Shiny red rubber boots,
buckles on the side,
cut little kid tracks in the virgin snow.
I trudge through the backyard
on my quest for perfect sticks,

four matching lengths
to secure with worn roller skate straps
to my winter footwear,
two long pieces of timber in hand
steady me in my rustic equipment.

Out to the side I thrust my feet,
each one accommodating  
two cumbersome tree branches,
and carefully waddle to the peak
of the snowbank at the top of the drive.

No cars coming up the street,
no brothers to make fun of my brilliance,
red cheeked and hopeful,
I stand poised,
waiting for the skiing to begin.


© by Elaine Sorrentino.
Used here with the author’s permission.