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Down The Bunny Hill

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Cold wind biting,
nipping,
freezing,
then calm.
Laughter
echoing off the mountain tops,
carried on a playful blast of winter air.
Indistinct voices harmonizing with the cold.
Staring down the Bunny Hill,
squashing down my fears.
Pushing off,
flying down.
Off balance,
beginning to tip,
yelling,
panic,
falling into the powdery snow.
Struggling to my feet,
slipping and tripping over my skis.
Success!
Pushing off again,
promising myself,
this time I wouldn’t fall.
Turning,
stopping,
freezing.
Climbing,
repeating until my hands ache,
until they’re numb from the cold.
I go down again until my feet freeze,
then happily head inside.



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