SO MUCH SNOW AND LOST GLOVES
Not by the pair, but singles.
Singles and socks, too much to keep straight.
But we had it all, grandchildren weightless
on skis in powder so light
the hold on gravity is gone.
The way out mirrors mountain
descent. Windshield fogged
like our goggles, all of us
giggling, windshield iced
forcing wipers to close hard
in a smaller arc. The cave
is here, warmed by insulation
from frozen water, bounty
of blankets wrapping our
falling selves in dream field.
2 January 2016
SUNSHINE AFTER SOLSTICE
--for Gretchen, Megan, Suzy, Kirsten
He points his ski pole down the mountain.
That's the way down, but this is the fall line.
Two different paths. Water finds
the fall line. So do your skis.
Release the edges and let them find it;
when they do, let your body follow,
bend into your knees, settle in,
complete your turn. That's the dance,
over and over. A simple
and effortless down up down.
On this snow there is only this snow
and this sky. This run you're riding,
Northern Sky, turns us
liminally, eliminating time.
29 December 2016