We drove back to Fargo today and went directly to work, so I didn't get to ski today. Too bad, as we got a dusting of new snow. Instead, I'm going to share one of my dad's poems:
Dusted White
Skies churning,
blue to gray.
Leaves turning,
blown away.
Fall season,
stormy night.
Mountain peaks,
dusted white.
Dusted White
Skies churning,
blue to gray.
Leaves turning,
blown away.
Fall season,
stormy night.
Mountain peaks,
dusted white.
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