Skiers Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Skiers
Slopes filled with pure white snow,
glistening in the morning sun.
Waiting for skiers to start their daily runs,
alone, toasting the morning with their appearance.
Leaning forward and speeding to the bottom of the
steep mountain where they will stop at the lodge
for a hot cup of coffee or maybe a hot cocoa.
Saturday, October 26, 2013
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4/25/2024 11:40:31 PM # 1.0.0.1119
