Wipeout
It's not a race
"Ego or leg?" he said.
I mumbled, "I don't think anything broke
But I sure hit my head."
I lie there with my helmet downhill
My eyes are clenched tight
I muster the energy to sit up
"Thank you, you're good" with my thumb upright
He drops my skis,
goggles, and poles
And I lay back down;
Not a part of me cold.
"Ego," I say,
wedging my downhill ski
I unzip my jacket
And get ready to leave
My vision's all blurry
And my eyes are stinging
The mountain is quiet
Not one human being.
So I lay back down
Just one more time.
I yell as loud as I can
And straighten my spine.
I stand up with my poles
and goggles in hand
Because if I put them on my eyes
It will hurt like breathing sand.
So with wide turns and my right arm
Over my face
I find my way down
It's not
a race
"Ego or leg?" he said.
I mumbled, "I don't think anything broke
But I sure hit my head."
I lie there with my helmet downhill
My eyes are clenched tight
I muster the energy to sit up
"Thank you, you're good" with my thumb upright
He drops my skis,
goggles, and poles
And I lay back down;
Not a part of me cold.
"Ego," I say,
wedging my downhill ski
I unzip my jacket
And get ready to leave
My vision's all blurry
And my eyes are stinging
The mountain is quiet
Not one human being.
So I lay back down
Just one more time.
I yell as loud as I can
And straighten my spine.
I stand up with my poles
and goggles in hand
Because if I put them on my eyes
It will hurt like breathing sand.
So with wide turns and my right arm
Over my face
I find my way down
It's not
a race
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