Here’s a disjointed sonnet from a few years back:
Avalanche Aubade
For just an instant she holds him in bright
air faceted as crystal. Last night’s snow
glitters on a winter’s bed of ice.
Light
on its slant of dawn, amber-golden, low.
The trail beckons as he waxes skis, checks
his topo map. A basin ringed with hills
and higher, cornices like cloud with flecks
of glory.
Now the deep bowl whitens, fills
with sun-wash against shadow. Not a tree
breaks the perfect surface –
only a crack
of crispness under the silk-glide of ski
over snowfield, a trail that won’t lead back.
She holds him briefly
and then lets him go
to the ever-changing, the forever
snow.
~ Taylor Graham
first appeared on Chantarelle’s Notebook
photo: far from avalanche, Kroto Creek 1973