Snowy morning

She passed me,
with a cheerful "How you doing",
running in the opposite direction
when I heard the clang
of something hitting the
metal stanchions guarding
the bike path from motor
vehicles.
I looked around and she was on her
knees, on the ice patch that I had just
shuffled over,
leaning against the
stanchion with one hand.
She got up and walked then
ran back in the direction she had come.
Passing me again, saying
"That wasn't fun" to my inquiry.