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Posted by MFish

I recall when I learned to ski.
Went and bought equipment for me.
Boots, bindings, skis and pole
And sweaters, ski pants, you could see.
I looked the part, of a skier, of course,
But needed lessons to assure me
That I didn't break a leg or hit a tree.
Down the hill I went for a spin
Not realizing the trouble I was in.
Snowplow, she said over and over to me.
A basic move to do on that day,
To slow my descent down the hill.
I tried my best in my own way.
The following weeks, I learned to adore
The snow and the slope, like never before.
Making cutting turns, became a breeze,
When I did the right thing with my knees.
My Son skied with me; remember I can't;
Until I hit a bump and did a head plant.
My days of skiing are now years past,
But the memories hang on and will last,
To the end of my days, please let it be,
While I remember the first day I did ski.

A trail, a path, a rutted road,
marked the journey of the old Toad.
He left the Bog he lived in,
starting his life anew, where it began.
From Bog to trail, through the trees,
hiding in daylight under branches and leaves.
He made his way toward the town,
where his family lived, near the Sound.
Water he craved, back to the Sea,
for this journey is not about him,
but more about the man I be.
I must go now; the ight grows dim
as our journey in life is short,
from the time we were born
until life does abort.

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