The frost in the wind begins to burn
the skin
A result of a joy that should be
a sin
While battling natures elements one can feel at peace
Knowing the accomplishment which lies underneath
Pressed against the snow your feet begin to glide
As they begin to control the board of wood,
as an extension of the body
With wind rushing past the skin begins to numb
But the senses which connect with the winter forest
As one hopes to never escape the serenity of
the snowy
woods
The run never seems to be long enough
For my
bodies extension of freedom
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