So he did it. It was difficult in the dark
And at some point he slipped and the sled
Broke free. Several hundred feet
Down the slope it hit a tree
And flipped. The body, in a sheet
of rough burlap, spilled onto the snow.
Blinded by tears, he did his best
To rebuild the sled, in the faint glow
Of a moon half hidden behind clouds.
He was his father’s son, and his task
Was a simple one, under the shroud
Of night, with all due care
And respect, to bring the body down
Out of the mountains, ahead of the bear
And the cougar, and lay it to rest.