Poetry! of the non-fiction variety

How My Friend Min Broke Her Back

The hill had a sled-slickened skin
snow beckoning us
with its shiny white glow

Each rider kicked their way up
tugging sour candy
swirled sleds
plastic shells coated in Crisco
a grease paint to make them swifter

One by one we riders swooped
carving our way down the hill's face
like colorful tears
traveling through pre-packed trails
with a hushed rush
then a white splash
when we found uncharted snow

The hill's face was in need of a nose
so we chose sledfuls
wet snow as our clay
and sculpted a
sled slinging mound at
the base of her brow

Bolting down with
reckless abandon
we riders rocketed
through crisp cold winter breeze
like snowflakes caught in
whooshing wind

Min was the last to go
sliding fast as a little skiff
on a white wave
then made a sudden
jarring
turn toward the sky
abandoned her sled
as if she could escape into the air
but gravity's grip was too great