Flakes swirl slowly down, floating around me,
Focus is soft, muted, yet crystal clear
Alone, I marvel at possibility
That lies so distant and also so near.
Beckoned down, by the ethereal trees
I float, weightless, silence surrounds all,
Time measured in turns, rushing past my knees
A world of green, muted by the white wall.
Storm skiing, a world of blatant contrast
Cotton ball snowflakes, a gift from Above
A single turn makes me forget the past
A single run makes me believe in love.
However superficial it may seem
Days like these are of what I often dream.