Sledding the Valley of the Shadow
by Laura Foley
We’re burning the Earth. We’re burning the sky.
—Deena Metzger
I know the burning’s true,
so I won’t be throwing snowballs
in the halls of Congress.
After today’s snowfall, I grab jacket, hat, mittens,
tear down the steep drive on my orange sled,
beaming a path through the night with a light
I hold between my knees
under the spread of winter constellations,
as dogs lope alongside.
In this northern woods valley,
we’re more likely to hear geese
than airplanes overhead.
I sled and snowshoe through cold winter days,
I know will last through my lifetime,
but still act for the generations after, including my own family.
I compost, recycle, keep bees,
have forgone meat for thirty years, and wonder how else to please,
whether being the change I’d like to see
will be enough to ease the anxiety
spreading like wildfire from teen to teen, every Greta or Deena grieving
the oblivion yet to come.
PHOTO: After sledding by Severin Demchuk on Unsplash.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: I enjoy living in rural Vermont, where we have long, snowy winters, and a steep, winding driveway for sledding in fresh snow; but I fear for future generations. I will continue to do my part to address climate change—solar panels for heating; composting food waste; growing vegetables; not eating red meat; recycling. I hope these ideas spread around the globe, soon.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Laura Foley is the author of seven poetry collections. Why I Never Finished My Dissertation received a starred Kirkus Review and an Eric Hoffer Award. Her collection It’s This is forthcoming from Salmon Press. Her poems have won numerous awards and national recognition—read frequently by Garrison Keillor on The Writers Almanac; appearing in Ted Kooser’s American Life in Poetry. Laura lives with her wife, Clara Gimenez, among the hills of Vermont. Visit her at laurafoley.net.
Love the way the formatting of this poem drives the action and message across with vivid imagery and feeling!