Someday I’ll prefer to sit, to sit
and breathe and think or not think
and sit. But now, now when
the high mountains sing with snow
and the snowcat has groomed
a path through the nowhere of spruce
and the sky is a winnowing blue
that makes me unknow my name,
yes, now is the moment to slip deeper
into the self of myself
and snap skis on my feet
and let the day slap a smile on my face
that I could not possibly unsmile,
because for now, there is
this burn in the lungs, this wind
in the face, this spilling of laughter,
this joy in stride and push and glide,
this thrill in losing the breath.