Mal de Montagne

I follow the herd into the cloudtrees shimmer with crystal, the mountain glowers.Through soft spray of powderskiers glide like so many crowsdescending into the cave of the valley.My limbs ache, stomach falls awayas the white dust settles on waxed jacket.Above the cloud the slopes disintegrateinto a void of indistinct movementblack ants traversing the windI want to scream my nameuntie my brains and lay a netof safety over this awesome immensity.Later, legs heavy we trudge the après ski streets,the odd or beautiful girl turns headswe melt into the night like hungry phantomssearching for our bodies.