Aspen and spruce shadows juxtaposed over
torn white, crumpled ice and snow
and geometric lines and curves like so many
jetplane contrails converging.
Denuded branches reach upwards desperately,
suckling sunlight,
oblivious of the SLOW signs and
fenceposts and the rushing, arcing onslaught of bodies.

Soaring silent over it all, supported by
massive green steel columns,
I look down and it all
lies there beneath my dangling feet,
blooming, static and stagnant
yet somehow unfolding below, scenes and layers
in the snow;
I hover quietly
and reach the summit.

--- ---

Many snowy days were spent at Sundance this season, and each time I was inspired to draw, write, or just think. I first wrote this on the lift in my small notebook (which Bella got me for Father's Day last year), then transcribed it on my typewriter, then re-transcribed it here.