Slide

As a child
I would sometimes slide
from the top of the hill
to the bottom;
on dark days, when the winter sun was low
and the ground below was snowy cold.

Time passed it seemed
in just a flicker,
I have grown older, colder, heavier
the descent is quicker
and there is no-one left now upon the hill
to help me to my feet; to fend off the chill

Sometimes I sit a while and gaze
as minutes pass;
hours, days
and wonder
if I will ever find
the strength
to climb that hill again.

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