Living Poetry

I was on top, she was below

An old wooden sled, she’s steering, wind blows

Our faves are freezing, we’re going fast

My job was to keep an eye for cars to pass

A hilly slope, a covered dirt road

I was supposed to let her know

A trick came to mind on that snowy slope

There’s a car coming I yelled like a dope

She headed quick and straight for the bank

The plowed snow was hard like a plank

We landed stiff as boards

Head first in the snow banked side of the road.

***

True story😵‍💫😀

Monday Poetry Prompt: Winter Storm