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
Mirage, by Santana (1974) – see lyrics here.
If you like my photograph, you can find prints available here.
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