Winter Wonderland Poem by Mark Gould

Crisp slurps of heavy air
Floating flakes of sailing ice
Ghostly moon, blue twilight
Crunching, sinking steps
Gloves, filled with sweat
Dry, watery eyes, vision blurs
On top of the world
Now, my turn
Grasping my oaken steed
Bracing, heart racing
Slow, agonizing dip
Plummeting
Hair raising
Fast, too fast
Weightless, face clear like glass
Grinding, scraping; Metal and ice
Fearful groans, a roll of the dice
Gritting, smiling
My final destination
Greeted there, by blue and red lights
Angry men, rob me of salvation
My winter wonderland, I mistook for public recreation.