Snow Anticipation

by Julianne Weinmann

 

I shuffle through fall leaves

A blood-orange site.

The last gasp of autumn,

A crisp end to life.

 

Then black and blue bruises

Mar the northernmost sky.

These clouds are snow’s promise

Some frown, but not I.

 

These shrouds harbor crystals

Of sweet tasting ice,

Kept closer to heaven,

For winter’s first night.

 

But my anticipation

Is a force that can coax,

These white jewels of powder,

From their threatening hosts

 

Then I’ll torque down those buckles

And clamp on those boards,

Pick a line straight and certain

Rip the mountain’s reward!

 

 

 

Copyright © 2003 Julianne Weinmann. All rights reserved.  Revised: June 09, 2008 .