Memories

The shouts of children playing, Bring back my happy youth. To recall the time I was ten, And lost a good front tooth. Piled three kids on a sled, Just room enough for me. Glided smoothly down the hill, Until we hit that tree. Pulled myself together, Surveyed my only sled. Thought sadly how it looked, No more shiny new and red. Suddenly I stopped, Put my hand up to my face. Found where a tooth should be, I had an empty space. Went yelling home to mother, Quite sure I'd soon be dead. But next day I was out again, With a battered paintless sled. Copyright Shaun Cronick 2019. All Rights Reserved.