At dusk this evening, I heard the geese honking.
Trying to make it wherever they were headed before
nightfall? They reminded me so much of when I tobogganed
as a kid. We hurled through the snow, stacked on top
of each other, or wrapped our legs around one another.
Always, the one in the front was the smallest, and got
the snow in the face. And quite smooshed, as we gathered speed.
I imagine the geese tobogganing through the skies wind in their
faces. Little ones up front.
