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
