angel wings

you step carefully up
the stairs, snow covered,
ice under that.
you grab the rail,
once black, now coated
translucent, an icicle
in your hand. carefully
you move your boots.
no longer are you dashing
through the snow
in leaps and bounds.
those days are gone.
instead, when you reach
the top, you stop and catch
your breath. you take
a picture to remember
where you've been.
the children on the hill
sliding along
in sleds, red cheeked
with joy, angels
making wings.