A passion for powder

serendipity of the steep and deep.

floating the light fantastic,

lighter and lighter,

weightless, breathless,

through a morning of suspended flakes.

 

The empty canvas of powder snow,

waiting, tempting,

asking for first tracks.

timeless slow-motion turns,

one after another after another,

turns without end, amen.

 

A cloud of powder rising

waist deep, chest deep

over your head

each turn the same

each turn different

not just a scene from a Warren Miller film

not just a skier’s fantasy

real powder snow

real skiing,  real tracks

your tracks, your signature