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Ski Race

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The chair lift clicks and moans
against the freezing air.
The wind bites through my suit

-Spiderman and thin-
and roars against the snow.

My skis swish against the ice
that’s gathered at the top of the lift.
The sounds cracks-
like a slap through the air.

Light dances down the course
flashing red, blue, red

the speedy rhythm.

We slide down like a blur,
FLASH, racing the clock,
chasing the times of those before us.

It’s my turn. I push off-
escaping the laws of physics,
and tear down the course.

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