Trails

these skis look like hell, old, scraped and gouged but still they carry me down this dark white trail I've learned to keep myself upright stumbles earlier almost forgotten jerks who pulled or pushed me over, fading/falling behind me its cold now, snow fills the air as I turn a corner, trees inches away my poor and dirty clothes still sufficient to keep me warm and there she is, coming from a different trail, forming up to my left her eyes flickering at me as mine lock on her and she is just perfect. Easy grace in opposition to my brute force beautiful outfit, new skis and a ready confident smile. She yells, 'hi!' and I say 'sup?!' as the trail turns, our speeds matched we start turning, towards and away, an impromptu dance, snow filling the air the wind and hiss our only music faster now as the trail drops away and for one perfect moment, we both catch air together flying now turning a tight corner, I look over and find her . . . gone. Reflex viciously kicks out my skis and I come to a snow-cloud stop. eyes spinning everywhere, thinking where are you? A separate turning, a different trail? She's nowhere I can see, nowhere I can help not with me anymore. and my skis are old, my clothes dirty but the person I was uphill, is no longer here. don't feel like skiing anymore.