we just didn't have time to pray

i saw the guy who skied like hell
he almost fell
spinning backwards
while wearing a batman suit
he looked cold and cute
dressed in red from head to toe
i watched him approach at light speed
and go
down hill
spraying snow;
but that's not all i remember
of the day it dumped.
i had a really big time
standing briefly in a short lift line
talking to a sweet lady from Montreal
who told me all
i could ever hope to know
about living in Florida in the winter
playing bingo,
just an easy throw
from the fantasy city of Orlando
where the courts for pickle ball
never need to thaw.
while i waxed my ears and bases
i heard excited hoots and hollers,
saw many high and tight Patagonia collars
underneath excited furry winter faces
wearing tinted goggles;
i convinced myself not to pee
underneath a frozen jack pine tree
where the powder seemed especially light;
it didn't feel right
because i wanted to make tracks until last chair
even with my increasingly wet underwear
and a nervous belly;
i imagined eating peanut butter and jelly
with a friend who carried a fanny pack
filled with carrots and cheese
and i know many times i softly said please
but he never seemed to hear a word
from Peak 6 to Peak 10
we went back and forth over and over again,
even hiking up to the heights of Imperial Peak
for the long traverse across Whale's Tail
looking for our own final mariners' sail
to the promised land of happily steep and deep;
we might have been tired but this was no time for sleep;
we found a head-spinning drop-in within ski pole reach,
the antithesis of a lazy, sun-tanned Miami Beach
and ten times better, we would later venture to say;
heck, we just didn't have time to stop and pray.