Bertram in Winter
The woods are familiar,
each root and rise a memory,
Bertram singletrack winding
through seasons of my life,
family laughter still echoing
between the pines.
Yet today is different.
Snow-packed, cold, the trail hardened
under tires I once refused—
a fat bike, wide and bold,
challenging my stubborn legs
and my old declarations.
Sarah rides beside me,
light in her eyes like winter sun,
every push of the pedal
a pulse of joy I never knew
could mix with the thrill of speed
and the hush of frozen woods.
We weave through shadowed paths,
branches bowed with snow,
the scent of pine sharp and sweet,
and in each turn I feel it:
the past and present entwined,
old roots beneath new wheels,
history beneath our tires,
yet everything alive and new.
I laugh where I once hesitated,
snow spraying, wind biting,
her hand near mine,
and I think:
love, like this trail,
is both known and unknown,
and I would ride it forever
just to feel this way with her.
© 2026 Shawn Oen. All rights reserved.
Feb 4
Feb 4, 2026 at 12:00 PM UTC
Bertram in Winter
The woods are familiar,
each root and rise a memory,
Bertram singletrack winding
through seasons of my life,
family laughter still echoing
between the pines.
Yet today is different.
Snow-packed, cold, the trail hardened
under tires I once refused—
a fat bike, wide and bold,
challenging my stubborn legs
and my old declarations.
Sarah rides beside me,
light in her eyes like winter sun,
every push of the pedal
a pulse of joy I never knew
could mix with the thrill of speed
and the hush of frozen woods.
We weave through shadowed paths,
branches bowed with snow,
the scent of pine sharp and sweet,
and in each turn I feel it:
the past and present entwined,
old roots beneath new wheels,
history beneath our tires,
yet everything alive and new.
I laugh where I once hesitated,
snow spraying, wind biting,
her hand near mine,
and I think:
love, like this trail,
is both known and unknown,
and I would ride it forever
just to feel this way with her.
© 2026 Shawn Oen. All rights reserved.
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