At the top of a very tall hill a toboggan sits,
waiting for someone to ride it on down.
And I think to myself, every time I pass by,
that as soon as it snows I will take it to town.
As it sits on its hill, does it dream of the day
it will whistle and blur on its way down the slope?
By itself it can’t move, but that just goes to show
even those who must wait still can always find hope.