Monday, February 9, 2009
On the Trail
xxxxxxxxxxxxx.....I talk to my bones
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxbefore I start,
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxthe warm marrow
xxxxxxxxxxx xxxxnot to turn to ice.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxStanding at the peak
xxxxxxxxxx on locked knees
xxxxxxxxxx I pat down my orange parka,
xxxxxxxxxx already damp with sweat,
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxand swing into an awkward plie'.
xxxxxxxxxx My trail is empty again.
xxxxxxxxxxxI take it and dream my way down,
xxxxxxxxxxxskiing new powder,
x xxxxxxxxx going past a few tracks that cut
xxxxxxxxxxxthe hill on the traverse.
xxxxxxxxxx xI whisper a caution now and then
xxxxxxxxxxxto shadows rushing past me......
xxxxxfrom / Two Ghosts/ poems/Lyn Rochelle
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