Spin./ its not the first day of snow. its not the last. its the day you can skate without falling on your ass.

its not the first day of snow.
its not the last.
its the day you can skate without falling on your ass.
the snow is firm, like ice, but if you land on your tushie,
it wont hurt and you wont be asking for a cushie.

the skates, your favourite shoes
the ones your mom says are "too smooth."
but you think there nice,
left foot out ward on the ice.
right foot out and round....

that first spin euphoric at best.
even better when you don't land on your chest.
you giggle remembering when you were younger.
you wouldn't have thought twice.
about slipping on the ice.

but now your dating,
and what would he think,
about a childish little tink.
a thing you can't help but do.
he sighs,
and says "you'll bruise your thighs"

but you grab his hand to help you steady.
you say, "its like waltzing on your own,
you say it's something you have to try...
oh, go on... or i'll cry."
you make a sad face, and fay its his fault.

Mr. too grown up, shakes his head in dismay.
but he does it any way.
first foot forward,
next foot out....
he spins too fast no doubt...

knows he's going to fall
but he lands it after all, breathing hard in and out.
he says "again."
you spin together parallel,
falling into each other...getting tangled

he holds your hand...
both laughing a way,
pulls out a box, not missing a sway.
he asks you.
you say yes.

fifteen years later... you both show your children
saying "be careful
take care"
realising why your mother used to swear.
at your nonchalant attitude to the ice.

another twenty so years you sit inside.
with you coco,
seeing every one laughing about.
doing what you now can't do,
you sit there and you murmur...

"Its not the first day of snow
its not the last.
its the day you can skate without falling on your ass."