On Sunday

On Sunday,

 

I go sledding.

Heaven sends

 

its noiseless messengers

downwards:

 

ethereal, jagged,

gentle. I hesitate

 

in my fine sweater, clean leggings,

boots worn

 

to church that morning

I look down that steep hill — 

 

It looks back — more frozen

dirt-entrapped leaves

 

than snow.

Yet I push off,

 

hitting roots and flying off the slick path

 

muddy gloves, whipping hair, 

 

swift and fleeting

above cold ice

 

teeth to the wind,

I find myself laughing as I lie

 

spread out

on lucid ground

 

like an angel.


Jocelyn Chin is a sophomore at Duke studying Public Policy and Philosophy.

This article is part of the Duke Crux X UVA Bearings 2021 Advent Series, a collaboration between the two Augustine Collective Organizations.

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