Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Sledding in Wichita

Photo courtesy hotblack

Introduction by Ted Kooser: Kansas is flat and we all know that. So, where does a boy go when he feels like sledding down a hill? Casey Pycior, raised in Kansas, tells us.

Sledding in Wichita

As cars pass, laboring through the slush,
a boy, bundled against the stiff wind
in his snow suit, gloves, and scarf,
leans on his upright toboggan,
waiting his turn atop
the snow-packed overpass—
the highest point in town.
First one car exits, and then another,
each creeping down the icy ramp.
The brown grass pokes through
the two grooves carved in the short hill.
As the second car fishtails to a stop at the bottom,
brake lights glowing on the dirty snow,
the boy’s turn comes.
His trip to the bottom is swift—
only a second or two—
and he bails out just before the curb.
It’s not much, but it’s sledding in Wichita.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2011 by Casey Pycior and reprinted by permission of the poet. Introduction copyright 2013 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction’s author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006. We do not accept unsolicited manuscripts.

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4 comments:

Debbie Nolan said...

DEAR KATHY - NOW THAT SOUNDS LIKE MY KIND OF SLEDDING - THANK YOU FOR SHARING - HUGS

Kathy A. Johnson said...

It's about my speed as well, Debbie!

Cheryl Gebhart said...

Oh I like this one. We had a very gentle hill where we lived when our son was small, and my husband used to take him down it on a sled when it snowed. This poem makes me think of that. Happy memory.

Kathy A. Johnson said...

Cheryl--Then the poem has done its job. Glad you enjoyed it.