I’m Not One of Them - Nancy Manning

These winter warriors, bundled

in wool and gore tex, ignore

the cold, bear the wind,

zigzag down this mountain

on fiberglass skis and snow

boards--faces red like fire--

I remain inside, scribble

lines of a spring poem,

read from Fahrenheit 451--

a flamethrower positioned to burn

paper. A fire on my hearth keeps

me warm though I remember I skied once.

On a dare to race to the bottom--

I rode up the chairlift, swore victory

though I never had a lesson.

At the summit I froze. Attendants pulled

my preteen butt off the seat. My knees buckled

as I confessed I was afraid of heights.

That’s a problem, isn’t it?

My brother-in-law taunted me,

dragged my arm, centered me

on the slope, pushed me forward.

Suddenly, I was Esther Greenwood hurling downhill---

between two rows of receding trees. I sped straight down,

waited for my leg to fracture.

Someone swore. I had plowed into him,

cartwheeled forward, crashed. Face scraped snow like sandpaper on wood.

A crowd asked what bones were broken.

Somehow only my pride. You extended

your hand, forcing me to pay up.

---

Nancy holds an MFA in poetry from Southern Connecticut State University. Her work has appeared in numerous places, including Humans of the World, The 2024 Connecticut Literary Anthology, Noctua Review and Unmagnolia. Her poetry collections are entitled Amethyst Garden, The Unspoken of Our Days, and What Glues Us Together; my fourth collection is due out this spring. Nancy's novel Undertow of Silence won the TAG Publishing YA Award. An avid reader, she participates in two book clubs and two poetry workshops.