I am full this afternoon–the treetops
lit with orange and purple, the shadows blue
and long–sledding on the earthworks
at Fort C.F. Smith. What is left of the Civil War
is hidden under the snow. The kids do not know.
Soon, they are wet and cold, pants dark and steamy,
bodies sliding down into the hollow. They are happy.
There are other boys here , and they take sides
against them. First, who has the best sled.
Then, who has the longest run, who can hit the jump.
One boy looks at me as we begin the trudge
back to the car. He says, I do not like the Earth,
and I tell him, either do I.
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