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Reading a comment made by my close friend, Penny Granger, on yesterday’s Snow-Covered Chairlift post, I was inspired to write this poem in response…

Lurking in the woods
Behind every tree
Are spirits of old
Seeking to be free

Onto a chairlift
So ghostly, unseen
They come here to ride
This skiing machine

When once others came
The mountain did roar
Not so much, today
Though, only before

Yet, now ghosts arrive
Lift-tickets in hand
To ski down the slopes
This lifeless woodland

Echoes from the past
Resound, shredding snow
Off moguls they launch
As one with the flow

Enjoying each day
Abridging pastimes
The old becomes new
Through rhythm in rhymes

© 2025 Phil Perkins

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Mirage, by Santana (1974) – see lyrics here.

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