SKI SEASON
Is it already that time to check our bindings,
As we add the fresh wax to our waiting skis.
Fluffy mountain snows have begun to appear,
The old summer greens have given way to white.
Open sandals are exchanged for winter boots,
And our warm woolen socks become the norm.
And soon we will begin our mountain assaults,
And setting our skis deeply into the first flakes.
While cords of wood that have been sitting idle,
They are soon to be consumed in our roaring fires.
And cool long island iced teas now are forsaken,
Our hot toddies served up with cinnamon sticks.
The clothes closets are shifted from front to back,
And sweaters, mittens and wool caps soon appear.
So while everything needed seems to be in place,
And the long waiting mountains call out our names.
Soon chairlifts propel us to the very mountaintops.
With our skis and poles set to the first season run,
And with each cool breathe taken we expel clouds,
Floating away quickly with swirling mountain winds.
While fast rushing winds sends our scarves waving,
The skiers we pass in our rush to reach the bottom.
Summer is now but a distant memory soon forgotten,
For the mountains will become our new season home.
T. Michael Daly