Tuesday, February 3, 2015

Frozen Pond Poem


Frozen Pond
by Joanne Faries 

first layer glistened in the sun
second and more glazed surface bluish
until the ice was leaden gray, stolid  

word traveled before days of texts
social media was the knock on the door
excited squeals, exhorted to grab skates
caps, mittens, red scarfs, rustle of ski pants

we blew on our hands, then fingers fumbled
to lace skates. Gloves on, we wobbled
pushed off from makeshift log seats  
 

uncertain of space 
 

no indoor circle. No calliope
music blare or disco ball for couples skate
embrace freedom to dash, meander, spin 

avoid older boys’ hockey game
reddened cheeks, drippy noses
we exhaled fog and shouted, “Tag, you’re it.” 

until legs wearied, lungs burned
backside bruised from too many spills
afternoon sun waned 

we trudged home
skates clicked, dangled from our hands
kitchen light beckoned 

hot chocolate hope

 

7 comments:

  1. And it was soooo much fun.

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  2. I really like this. Nicely written! :)

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  3. Hello greetings and good wishes.

    Excellent poem which is in marked contrast to what many people are doing in the present times sitting at home watch movies or playing computer games or chatting on the internet or sending text messages on the mobile phones.

    Physical activity gives us good health, shapes up our body, gives us good appetite and sleep and gives us the energy to cope up with a stressful day.

    Best wishes.

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  4. The last line's my favourite. Hot chocolate for the win ;)

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  5. How neat to remember social media as a knock on the door. Even though we Texans don't put skates and ice together, we sure get the hope of hot chocolate. Well done.
    Sue at CollectInTexas Gal

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  6. Aw, that last line makes it all worth while, doesn't it? Great poem, Joanne. I could feel the chill and awkwardness that I always felt when attempting ice-skating.

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  7. Ah, the joys of ice skating without technical distractions! Things have changed a lot, but nothing beats the taste of a hot chocolate on a cold day. Another wonderful poem, Joanne! The last line says it all!

    Julie

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