Whisper 

I see a whisper
pine trees shudder
shed coat of newly fallen snow,
bows crackle
whisper blows through
I call my
zone

In the wooded tree farm
touch the snow
mittens off, true temperature
not meteorologists guess
purple wax
today
coating ski tip to back

Boots slide into
traps,
poles fit,
push,
herringbone step up the hill
curved trail 
fell again

I miss snow,
the bows in the woods,
the snirt of the city
quiet swish
cross country skis
whisper of pines

Home is not the same in an ocean breeze.

©  12 minutes ago, Denise A White    nature • sad