it’s so hot you’d think it’s summer

yet we have a reservation

so we soak up these snowless moments

trying to find glitter sparkling on pines

after a late-night flurry of fruitless hope

and wind our way over logs and rocks

exposed way too late this winter

as harsh on our newly-waxed skis

as the climate-changing burn of sun

and it’s January. New Year.

new chances to fill our future

with darkening doom scrolling

because we can’t find any tracks with no snow.