Skating on a Winter Night


To feel young again on a chilled winter night
skating on a frozen pond across the choppy ice

To feel young chasing a puck and slapping your stick
calling for a pass or attempting one

More than scoring a goal your goal is to remain upright
and not smack your brittle bones on ice as hard as concrete

To feel the freeze in your fingertips and the run in your nose

To hear your skate blades carving curls into the ice
and the shouts and calls for the puck

To drift away from the game and glide into a dark corner
of the pond where the ice is smoother
and to practice tight turns and backward crossovers
and stops and starts

To coax the moves from memory muscle

To so long ago
So long that youth

To have it again and with friends you haven’t seen
and the son you once taught to skate and who now schools you
outdoors in this moment on a winter night
under a black sky and nothing else
matters or possibly could

Until the morning after
when any movement
results in a grunt or groan
because of youth
gone so long

To catch that glimpse
to a moment you were young

By David Klein

David Klein

Published novelist, creative writer, journalist, avid reader, discriminating screen watcher.


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