Winter Cross-Country

Winter Cross-Country

You bought a new bike...

I remember your first one--- it was green

and I was jealous of the sissy bar,

you said you could do wheelies

for five blocks, but I never believed it.

This one could get you to work in Milford.

You didn't mind the ride, I'm sure you enjoyed

the sun going; coming back would have been

darkness, crickets, the sound of the tires on the

gravel scattered on the shoulder...

it was summer, but a coldness came up from behind

and lifted you toward Heaven to lay you down

in a silence as full and as dangerous as winter

drifting thick across highway 6.

During track, we would run our cross-countries even

through the drifts. I would have given up except for fear

of admitting defeat to you.

You showed me how to wrap my towel

around my neck before putting on the

sweats..., "keeps the cold out"

You were better built for endurance, light, wiry, I don't

think I told you I envied that.

But I waved to you through the ambulance door

when the pole I was vaulting with threw me

down to the concrete... you were scared... I was so

proud.

I didn't see you through the ambulance door

this time, but you wouldn't have seen me anyway. I wasn't

even scared when you died...

I was counting on your endurance until it was too late.