Slope of Perfection
by Laura Johnston
Time ceased to move.
The laws of nature were not obeyed.
I was blissfully unaware as to the why.
The shape, carved perfectly and frozen forever in its place?
The sun, warm but unwilling to melt snow?
My own imagination, overactive and chemically enhanced?
I knew only that this magical slope was perfection.
Atop the ridge with him, yet totally alone.
We let go a woo hoo!
Slid edge to edge with speeds so fast we kissed insanity.
Blazing by the geometric wonder, I never stopped; or even slowed to think...
Off the shear face of the cliff, air was all that held me up.
The top of the ridge.
Fresh snow, no tracks, the same hill.
Me and him together, totally alone.
I'm Laura Johnston, and I live in Hawaii. I write, surf and hike. In that order.
Pieces Inspired by this Image
'Interior Christmas (With Snow Angel)'