no school tomorrow

we'd be out in the snow
until midnight. sledding down the packed
slush and sleet,
the ice
before the trucks came
onto the back streets
with their salt and wide
hard shovels.
there'd be no school tomorrow.
the moon was out,
the snow finished for the night.
our hands
so cold, red and raw.
we found socks to cover them
when the gloves
got soaked
and froze.
there was joy in those nights.
riding the curve of the road
down Winthrop street
to Dorchester.
the dogs would be out there with
us,
running beside our sleds
we laughed and hollered,
raced, seeing how far
we could go.
to the mailbox, to the pole,
to the street over.
those nights were gold.