Sledding

Dave BontaCheerful

The spruce grove at the top of the hollow harbors a north-woods chill.

Seated on a runner sled I hurtle down into the sunlit field,

my shadow like a witching rod stretched out before me, alive to every bump and dip.

Dave Bonta

Learn by heart: tap a gap

at the top of the
harbors a chill.
Open the trainer

Keep going on the web or in the app.

Describe a feeling — we’ll find a poem

Learn Poems app

Try the Learn Poems app

Everything from the website trainer, and more: new exercises, voice recording and sharing, reminders, quick review.