Ski Trip

I went one a ski trip this weekend. It was awesome, so I decided to write a poem about it.

Ski Hill

The lift ascends and up the beautiful hill it goes,

Slowly. up

Faster now it goes, up and

Then at the top I slide to the edge of the seat and ski

down.

I look down the slope and plan my route

first right

then left

past the pole

around the tree.

up

At the bottom once more and up then

Up another lift to the top and up then down

I never stop to look out, only down.

Then up at the top, I look out and I see

beauty.

Beauty with which my treks up and down cannot compare.

There is so much more.

To my eyes I see how myopic my path.

And my soul.

Something to think about.

There have been many people exploited over the years and because of their revolutions we recognize the terrible things they suffered. One example is the civil rights movement. Marches on Washington . . . etc

Dead babies can’t march on Washington. Just something to think about.