December 29, 2022

And I Die…Don’t Cry

If by a bear I’m attacked

On a gorgeous out and back

And I die…Don’t cry

If on the open road practicing skills

On my motorcycle for ultimate thrills

And I die…Don’t cry

If walking on a path through the woods

And an old tree and a breeze do me in good

And I die…Don’t cry

If playing around in a river’s water white

Filled with adrenaline and delight

I die… Don’t cry

If on my snowboard I hit the wrong edge

And careen off a steep ledge

And I die…Don’t cry

If bike, boat, boots or board was a part

of the stopping of my heart

When I Die… Don’t Cry

Take comfort that I was in my happy place

and would’ve chosen no other time and space

So I died? Don’t Cry!

But if while sitting in an office chair

In the foul blue glow of computer glare

I die…then, then you may cry.

March 17



Now we know how it feels to be

Living inside a still snow globe

With trees wearing snow like a thick robe

The winds blowing flakes all glittery

Surrounded by snow suddenly.

Snow settles in on trails knee deep

Making them soft, even the steep

The snow begins to settle down

The wind blows and shakes it around

Inside we make memories to keep.


(A Decima Poem)

March 16



Friends and family, destination Whiteface

For an extended adventure weekend

Squeezed in a glass gondola we ascend

Then we descend on boards and skis with grace


Between snow and board Julie found space

Frozen faces, tired legs, hours we spend

Yard sales, bumps, winds, and laughs we descend.

At the summit looks like another place.


Despite the noise from the front of the car

We made it down the longest eastern blue

And had a delicious locker room lunch

From open to close we really rode far

We had so much fun the time really flew

It was a great day with a great bunch.


(A Petrarchan Sonnet)

March 12

Change is on the way


Skunk cabbage! The first sign that spring

Is just a few sunsets away,

It’s mottled flowers reminding

To set the clocks forward timing

Transition to new kinds of play.


Near time to stow board and bindings

Pull tent and bike from where they stay

Prepare for warm weather hiking.

Don’t yet put snow gear in hiding

Maybe we’ll still have a snow day.


(A Copla Real Poem)

January 20

An Afternoon at Elk


Air is fresh and crisp, a new pair of

Bindings tightened down to ride afternoon

Corduroy and

Diamonds, squares and circles.

Enough space to spread out crowds,

Fallen flakes

Groomed into packed powder.

Hours spent on trails

In our own little worlds of

Jumping or not

Keeping up with each other or not.

Long lifts, longer runs with my hunny,

Midday sun warming bodies, softening snow

Needing to unzip and ventilate between runs

Off with the gloves and onto the lifts

Parting crowds of skiers and riders at the top

Quickly heading to where people are fewer.

Riding, turning, carving

S-turns and speed checks

Tinted goggles and tricky ice patches

Unexpected but not upsetting the flow, the fun.

Vertical of 1000′

Which isn’t a lot but the air is still

Xeric, drying exposed cheeks and chins, chapping lips

Yes we will be back

Zipping, slipping, sliding enjoying riding.

(An alphabet poem)