Winter Lament

The snow melted quickly followed by a soft rain.

The hardscrabble road is muddied, it does not drain.

Vehicles parked at road's head, a brisk walk ensues.

The snow is blinding white, playful glistening hues

Where are my cross-country skis? I was not ready.

Watching the pros, they make the sport look so heady.

I fall and get up again, only wounded pride.

I, the novice, barely learning to stop and glide.

Next time it snows, determined to not be sidelined.

To join the venturing crowd, for this I have pined.