Sunshine After Solstice

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.

Jim Bodeen

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.

Jim Bodeen

29 December 2016