Behind The House Sliding

BEHIND THE HOUSE, SLIDING

Behind the house, sliding--
Where wind and land make smooth
a rut for rungs, a print for boot,
a place to form a tire groove--
A hill to push a sled
Where scarf flies out behind
as down we go a wintry wind
where white and speed can make you blind--

Behind the house, sliding--
Where dusk slips down and paints the land
a deep blue shade with daedal hand
up to the distant peach-red band
where the setting sun sets fire
to the far backdrop of trees
that stand in silhouette and freeze
but will never burn against the bise.

Behind the house, sliding--
With every tear and memory
of things that were, but cannot be
for time has changed the backyard lee
to otherlands with other yards
where hills are never snow-providing
nor meant to send a sled to riding
behind the house, sliding.