The Last Run

He's already fearless,
careening down the snowy hill
over and over
hitting the jumps
gaining air
flying

until the Sun's gone
and the wind drives even the bravest
indoors

where with red cheeks and hot ears
he strips off the wet layers
and collapses exhausted
in the knowing
how wonderful
everything finally is

It takes me back
to my own time
on steel running sleds
and steep icy hills
we'd go for hours
not caring
about the cold
or the wind

On the big hill we'd aim for
was where Nick's dad died
when his heart gave out
on the 9th hole
not long after the brother's body
came back from Vietnam
a few years earlier

It was perfect
for speed and air
if you hit it
just right

That's how these things end,
you know,

when you can't blot out
the inevitable knock
at the door
any longer

By Spring
Nick was in jail
and headed for more trouble,

Danny went away to his Dad's
and came back with one eye out
from an industrial accident,

and Tommy and I got our stomachs pumped
and ended up in juvie
until around the time high school ended

But that last Winter
every day
we sailed blind, high, fast,
and fearless
down cliffs of ice
and out onto the frozen pond
at the bottom,

where the runners let go
and sent us spinning
into joyful
frozen piles
of laughter and fading innocence

My son's got a few years left
before he starts noticing the cold
and maybe quite a few more
before snow's just something to dread
like how so many of us end up seeing it

So sipping coffee
I watch him from the top
flying down the hill
over and over
laughing and screaming
when he hits the jump just right
and gets airborne
as the sled goes one way
and him another

Breathing hot steam
from the cup,
my teeth chattering,
belly shivering,
these memories caterwauling,
the sunset finally turns everything
a near single gray tone
and I think how nice
inside will be

before letting him talk me into
just one more run
yet again