watched the Olympics on television--many years ago
didn’t look hard--snow is soft
went skiing one winter day--never been
navigate the good ship thunderbird on the black ice
keep it between the white banks
rented some blue Fischer skis
wasn’t that hard to learn really wasn’t
Jean Claude Killy and Franz Klammer had nothing on me so I thought
downhill tuck position picking up speed
bob beattie yelling on my run
stayed on the small hills out of modesty I tell myself
didn’t fall much or get in anybody’s way
wiped out a couple of beginning fools who got in my way
top of the hill I felt gold medal
out all day run after run
got dark and my ski pass expired
went to have some steaming hot chocolate in the brick and wood lodge
felt good--tired--exhilarated--exhausted--extraordinary
stopped at IHOP for coffee and pancakes
the next day I couldn’t walk
legs were so sore, blisters on my feet
couldn’t go to work, that’s not a bad thing
next time I went I bought some skis
stored them in the rafters--used them once or twice maybe
moved down south--not much snow in Miami
should of bought water skis instead
