Winter Solitude

The constant whisper of skis
On the crusty winter snow
Packed by February winds
That recently blew so cold.

The constant whisper of skis
Sounding much like those winter winds 
Accompanied by the rhythmic beat
Of the ski poles piercing the crispy snow.

Click, squeak, click, squeak
As they press into the frozen snow.
It reminds me of a pioneer wagon wheel
Squeaking along a dusty road.

The low winter sun behind me
Casts my shadow long and thin
Momentarily taking me back again
To times when I was young and naive.

I take a deep breath of air
And exhale into the clear blue sky
The air so fresh and dry.
I gaze down between my feet.

My motion has me mesmerized.
The blur of snow passing by
Makes me feel like I am standing still
And the world is turning instead

Click, squeak, click, squeak
The world is passing by.

Larry  Chartrand 02/18/1989