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Ski Poetry: Like Father, Like Daughter

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Last week, my mom & I were going through some junk from my dad's desk when we found a folded up piece of lined paper, faded yellow with age.  As I carefully unfolded the brittle paper and I began to focus on the words, tears began to stream down my face.

It was a poem.

A poem about skiing.





Walking down a pretty roadway
Looking up into the sky
Watching snowflakes that are falling
through lights unto the ground.

I am dreaming of that powder
that once I knew I found
moving lightly through a snow fall
with music all around

For I found a place called heaven
and few around will know
of the beauty you can find
winter flying through the snow

I have found that perfect mountain
where everyone should ski
There dreams of really flying
And now I know I'm free

Skiing high up in the rockies
in a powder that is free
floating over mountain moguls
until we're in our bed.






My mom smiled through her tears. 

"I believe that was the first time your father ever really skied powder," she explained.  His Unc…