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Snowbound

. . . And it began
to snow.
Swirls and swirls
of snow,
dancing in eddies
endless
through the air
falling lightly
kissing the cheek
before they melt away.

And all became
white
in every direction whispers
the sound was
whispers.

And we began
to move
in strides
into the forest.
Our bodies swaying in rhythm
left, right
glide a ways.
The snow soft
a feathery blanket parting before our skis.

And we stopped
to savor,
with our breath in clouds
the cool air in our lungs
invigorating.
Around us wept the trees
sagging from their burdens,
canopies of velvet
letting go in clumps
here and there.

And all sounded
whispers
from every direction white
and all was
white.

Drawings, poems & music © 1986 David Erskine
info@pineshadow.com
Oakland, California