The hill was steep,
The snow was light,
Mud and sticks,
Oh, what a sight.
"Let's try to sled!"
We all said.
The first to try
The deathly ramp
Was our cousin Matt,
Who lived with us.
He flew down the hill
With nothing to lose.
So, we soon followed
In pursuit.
At top speed
We sped, oh, the thrill
Of racing hearts,
And winter's chill.
Over and over again
We flew down that
Deadly track.
Then it happened,
Our cousin went sailing
Off his sled into the air.
We screamed in pain,
"Are you okay?"
As we watched him land
On a pile of logs.
He rolled off the pile
Into a ball.
Down we ran
As fast as we could.
"I'll be fine!"
He managed to grunt.
Mom was told the story,
And banded the hill for life.
written by Evelyn Creon
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