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Stickline
The white expanse sits,
Waiting.
I follow the hidden signs
To the entrance between the trees.
I begin.
I follow the tracks freshly created
By the snowboards in front of me.
Rich greens and glowing whites weave together
In a blur of color.
The sharp, cool wind fills my lungs
And surges against my face,
Leaving it stinging.
Adrenaline floods through my veins.
I weave through the closely packed trees,
My legs burning.
I watch only what is
Right in front of me.
A large gap between two pines
Grows closer and closer until
The trail spits me out
Onto the main slope once more.
I skid to a stop,
My heart still dancing.
The shimmering mountain sparkles
Like an immeasurable amount of stars in the sky.
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