Keeping warm, in body and soul,
There is a dark searching wind
Softly rocking the white satiny trees.
It is as though the earth rises
Slowly and steadfastly towards heaven.
Valleys and mounds are being
By urgently falling snow.
And you, on your father’s old skis,
Stagger to keep your balance,
As the world as you know it
Disappears in a dizzying
Star crossed silence.