at winter I dreamt of skis
a pair that smelled of tar
waxed in perfect balance
between glide and grip
and weather was a fairy tale
I would be skiing
into forests
between the branches
ripe with fruits of snow
I recall the days of thaw
when snow got stuck
growing underneath my skis
and my friends had plastic skis
I was crowned in snow
by bullies in the school-yard
I still feel the pain of icy snow
that’s rubbed into my face.
throwing balls of snow
and snowmen melting
I had a plastic pulk
my sledge for speeding
downhill – until I crashed
and went home crying
after all it’s nice to stay inside
Today at dVerse poetics Mary wants us to write poetics about toys and playing from our childhood. Wintertime was a special time with a lot of toys. But the perfect conditions rarely existed.
—
November 9, 2013

dude…snow rubbed in your face is no fun…and bullies suck….its supposed to snow here tuesday…and i am so jacked…i hope it is enough to sled….
Love that book…awesome memories and poem 🙂
Very Nordic memories! The only skiing I ever did was in the Alps, not anywhere near home. The ending made me smile.
Bjorn, you must have been quite a skier, or at least a dreamer of skiing. The incidents with icy snow must have been painful though. Your mention of that made me recall similar times from a bully who lived down the street. I was ever into skiing as a child, but went twice as an adult…..but never got beyond the ‘bunny hill.’ I identify with the ending. In winter I prefer the ‘inside’ myself!!
i loved sledging during the winter….being outside…and inside as well…cosy with some tea and gingerbread…but ugh…bullying sucks big time… not fun to get snow rubbed into your face..ugh
You brought back childhood for me there, very smoothly. Our skiing was done in the Alps, and ran on very similar lines as you described here. A very successful poem to bring it so effortlessly back!
Yes, loving the outside too ~ Boo with all the bullies ~ Good one Bjorn ~
How terrific of you to share a Swedish tale, and somehow make snow a character in it; those damn bullies seem to force their way into a lot of our poetics these days; living in the soft warm winters of WA state, we have to travel to our several mountain passes to play in the snow, & no one around here really knows how to drive in ice & snow; bummer.
Ski=ing is wonderful, but I do so feel the cold these days…
It makes me sad you were bullied. I feel the freedom of skiing in your writing. Like an angel with you.
Well. I recall that snow put in the face or in the neck every time a chance was there to do so. We must have been to hot.
*smile* – Sorry. “too hot”.
To ski into forests…yes! I’ve skied both downhill and cross-country (grew up in Colorado). Now I like to snowshoe through the trees in our grove 🙂 I assume a “pulk” is some kind of sled? Whee!
Growing up in south Texas, snow skis were not a part of my life. Living in Michigan for the past 24 years, they should have been. I did build a few sad but fun igloos. Enjoyed reading your poem.
yes, wood skis and pine tar, nostalgia. I race on featherlight carbon fiber now on machine groomed raceways, but miss the old narrow trails made by skiers
Skiing is not part of my childhood but I have been skiing many times (under duress) 🙂 I have a photo of my Grandfather skiing in a suit and tie . Things have changed.
I’ve never been skiing, don’t like the cold you see:) We don’t get much snow here in South East Spain. But remembering my childhood in England, the horrid bullies who put stones in their snowballs to make sure they hurt when they hit you.
I grew up on the slopes of BC – whistler mountain is some fine skiing. We’re all snow boarders now.
Ah, bullies can ruin anything. I loved to skate and sled, but was crap at skiing. Stay warm my friend.
Childhood wasn’t always fun.
Good, and timely, write, Bjorn!
rubbing snow in your face ~ so not cool!
Loved what you wrote BR – hate the cold and snow however 🙂
i had to look up the definition of “pulk” ~ i thought it would be a plastic disk that you sat on to slide downhill. i’d completely forgotten till now about going to a ski resort when i was 12 with a school group and riding down the mountain on a large plastic disk because i was afraid to try to ski without having a lesson first.
great visuals in your poem!
What an utterly charming, and realistic, snow day poem. I loved this!
Olles skidfärd remains me of my childhood. I was living in the noth part of Sweden and we were skiing every day. At that time we had no plastic skis! But sometimes life was hard. Like the poem!