Bliss

June 1, 2008
By Camille Phillips, El Cajon, CA

The snow capped mountains parade miles above the ground
The air is so cold that every breath appears like smoke
Snowboarders race down the slopes to the ground
Taking over the jumps and soaring over the snow
Skiers glide gracefully, twisting and turning
The skis slice through the ice and crush the powder
Sometimes snow daintily floats down from sunny skies
But today the sky is a rage of anger and torment
Pellets bolt down, pounding and beating the earth
Wind howls and whips through the trees and ski lift
Inside the lodge, all is calm and warm as I sit
Sipping my hot chocolate by the fire at Mammoth


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