Freedom

SItting on a chair,

Waiting patiently as I rise

Into the heavens we go

Then comes the end of the rope,

And down the slope we go.

 

Trees and snow meet my eyes

As I glide down.

Wind flows through my blonde curls

As I go down, down, down.

I feel I’m flying, I feel free

I never feel such a feeling.

 

Soon I reach the bottom

I am grounded in reality.

The freedom I have up there

Will never exist down here.

Posted in response to the challenge Skiing.

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Adalia Kruk

VT

15 years old

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