A DREAM OF PERFECT SNOW

On the slopes ahead the powder’s deep
For a seasoned skier they’re not too steep.
Nearby now a cornice hangs
With powder sifting and blowing down.

Feathery powder light and soft.
My edges bite as I take off.
Then I come to easier stuff.
The powder’s fresh, pure feathery fluff.

Cracks and crevices go whizzing by.
The lodge draws near, I shush and fly.
The lights from the lodge ahead
Are bright and strong so I turn my head.

As I look away colors appear.
Snow refracted light,
Rainbows,

As I draw near.

Then I’m awakened from my reverie
By a stewardess offering drinks,
Chilled and free.

I decline turning back to my dream
Never explaining that I’m already high
As we both soar through a late evening sky.

But the lodge is gone

And I see the Sun,
The cloud deck passes,

I’ve finished my run.

The sides of the clouds were the slopes I’d run.
The lights of the lodge, the setting Sun.
Soon there’ll be real snow, and then!
Down a Sierra face I’ll go!
****