Winter
It was a clod, foggy and snowy morning,
you could only hear the swish, swish of skis,
My boot buckles go snap, my bindings go click,
As I cruise through the park I see a box ahead,
Can I do it I say to my self? Yes!
Onto the box I go - stomp, slide, jump
Off I roar down the mountain to do it all again.
By Sam Teal
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