My fondest memory of you, the brother I never met,
the one that was born still

was when you took me sledding on Fairview Hill.

The snow iced the hill like the powdered sugar
Mama sprinkled on hot yeast donuts.
25 inches of snow fell that year.

The view seemed so high from the top,
my mittens cold with packed snow,
you held them tight in your own
like big brothers do.

I wanted to turn back,
watch you safely from the bottom
But you were determined, your sled
polished and all, so I bit my lip; anticipated
the steep drop.

"Get on back!"
you screamed in the wind,
cheeks flushed doll red.

Scared, I hesitated.
You turned your head,
looked at me.

Then a smile creased
as you flipped your red scarf
over your shoulder.

"See you after, loser!"
you screamed in delight.

One last look and you were gone.

You soared ahead, sled quick as lightning
gliding faster than the other children's.

What a sight, the red coated boy
flying his sled like the Red Baron.

I crossed my eyes,
snow pixels turned to dust.

I never saw you again.

This poem appeared in The Hiss Quarterly's Perilous Journeys Issue - April, 2005