The Last Run Down

The last run down is a peaceful affair,  the piste is deserted with no one to share

At the top lift station while others ski home, I zip and re-clip until I'm alone.

I don't want to share the powder and bumps, nor be seen to be funking the scary high jumps.

Lift wheels have stopped turning the silence complete, I cautiously check the slope at my feet

The sun is just setting with dusk all around, with light that's so flat no contours are found.

Linking turn after turn as the long pistes unfold, unhindered by others I'm sking for gold.

In my mind I'm Zubriggen, I edge and I tuck, the medal is mine if I just hold my luck.

Flat out in flat light is not a great choice,  my skis find the ice and I hear my own voice.

I pick myself up and I search for a ski, I un-bend a pole, test the weight on my knee

With no one around my ego is spared but it's a sobering thought of who could have cared.

I continue the decent with caution not pace, and the final run in sees relief on my face.

The last run down can be fun all alone, but its good to remember you need to get home.