SLEDDING
Whoosh! Down the hill I go
Rushing down the powdery snow
The cold bitter wind stings my face
Rushing down, in a race
I can’t move, I’m frozen still
Rushing down the white sleek hill
I see the bottom, I’m almost there
Rushing down, the wind sweeps my hair
I’m at the bottom, I skid to a stop
It was really fun, off the sled I hop
I’ll go again, I run to the top
