Ski Tango

Ahead of me Hardscrabble
cracks knuckles against clouds.
Behind the Bridgers splay
crags in the oystery air.
I move to a tango.
Skies and poles glide, cut, break.
I am partnered by the wind
against whom I tangle, kick.
A flake catches my lash,
blurs tracks and trees.
Snow, manna from heaven,
cascades in a whirling mass:
shredded paper tangos
refigured under foot,
a half-moon, then a twist,
a white, zig-zagging shake.
I bend into the hill,
Push up to Downey’s Butte.
Here tango, snow, rhythm
conjure together as one.
I launch myself off, fly
down vertical twin tracks,
lean backwards, then forwards,
legs bent under torso.
The wind enters me, a lover
I taste, sharp, sweet.
My heart uncurls its fist.
I dance closely embraced.

Originally published in Big Sky Journal.