Skiing
The other day I was at our cabin.
A powdery snow fell at night
And I awoke to a stellar glory
Of pine and sky and crystals.
I headed out on cross country skis
Along the roads that snake around Rosita.
Honeysuckle, Chokecherry, and Paintbrush
Entwine our subdivision of Blumenau.
The roads are rarely covered enough
For skiing and I shuss-shussed along.
But I soon became bored and realized
My Nordic affliction.
The roads were too gentle and wide.
There was no twist or fear or corner.
It was just one long stride after another.
And I realized how like life this is.
The speedy downs thrill
And the steep ups challenge
But the flats stifle.
Riding the joys of life downhill is easy
And humping up the steeps is hard but
At least you make progress and perhaps
People help you along the way.
But the interminable flats are weary
And perhaps this is why the pandemic
Has so challenged. And why, as a torture,
Sisyphus is made to roll the rock up the hill
Again and again. It’s not the challenge of the task;
It’s the boredom of the repetition.
David C. Reynolds
Mountain View Electric consumer-member
Snow Dunes
Soft round drifts
Curling around rocks
In the snow-filled meadow.
Hedgehog mounds
With spiny shards of ice
Perching on hidden rocks.
Natural, clear ice-cycles
Hanging from snow-laden trees
Molting slowly in the sun.
Weeds bent into corn-husk dolls
With billowed, white aprons
Eating dollops of ice cream snow.
While I cross-country ski
In the winter meadow.
Carol Fortino
San Isabel Electric consumer-member
Shadowlands
Winter has come to the rangelands
and brought with it diminishing light.
Nebulous forms now blanket the sky
obscuring the sun’s warming rays.
Nature’s vast nursery of children,
whose home is this stark shadowland,
wander and paw at once fertile ground
trying to keep hunger at bay.
Antelope, dogs, horses and deer,
domestic or wild at heart,
rely on ones they fear the most
to reach out and show them the way.
For human hands are capable
of great kindness and terror alike.
Compassion dwells deep in each soul,
though in some it’s more hidden away.
Winter has come to the rangelands
and with it the spirit of hope,
that mankind and beast may soon
live in peace – for this
I will bow down and pray.
Cynthia Bullock
Mountain View Electric consumer-member
