I think I will never go skiing again.
I loved it when I was 18 or so,
When my balance was good and I dared to go fast,
And falling was nothing to worry about.
Life has been busy since college and marriage
And money was short for some of those years,
So every winter I’d put it off.
And now when I think about downhill skiing,
Sure, I remember the swoop and the thrill,
But I also think about broken legs
And sliding down mountains out of control.
Being 40 apparently means
Becoming a practical realist.
Sure, I could go skiing again,
But would it be worth it? What would it prove?
Aren’t there easier ways to have fun?
But it’s strangely hard to let it go,
Just like it’s hard to comprehend
How far from 18
~ Tamary Shoemaker
(This is a response to a prompt at Poetic Asides to write a "never again" poem.)