Waking up before the sun rises,
Wrapping goosebumped arms in wool,
Lacing up used ski boots just in time to take them off again.
Stepping blindly into sparkling pearl,
Skipping to the log kitchen,
Licking the syrup from our satisfied fingers.
Snapping toes into cross country skis,
Climbing through the overcast clouds,
Gliding past forests with only our falls to slow us down.
Piling into the mess hall with grumbling stomachs,
Feeding the hungry dishwasher the plates we attempted to clean,
Keeping eyes open to the facts of glittering geology.
At last,
Plopping exhausted into the cobwebbed bunk you've spent a week in,
And realizing this is the last night it will cradle your slumber.
-Christina
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