Valentine's Day Poem

[ladyoracle]

Whistler Mountain, Canada
for Jack

In summer the snow on Whistler
is too wet to throw, but we tried
decked out with gloves, scarves, and heavy leather--
to the amusement of mountain bikers
in shorts and light jackets.
What did we care, hamming it up
with cameras out counting bear sightings
from the venicular,
our lungs frantic for fresh air
after our year in the perpetually tropical
but black-skyed Malaysia.
Looking out at the pond below
It seemed that we could hold time
in the pond where the glacial river flowed,
if not our slushed clumps of snow,
and in a still moment
you kissed me crooked, boyish
both of us smiling
like life let us get away
with something.