Still skating
A frozen pond was where
My social life began
Holding a willing woolen
Mitten as she and I would glide
Round lantern lit ice
On a glistening pond
Made glass smooth watered by
Early morning efforts of volunteers
Shoveled as snow would fall by all
Now on inline skates
My pond's a parking lot
Empty this evening but
Lit by halogen lamps
Not nearly as fetchingly flickering
the woolen mits gone replaced
By wrist braces elbow and knee pads
A protective helmet now my touque
My graceful glide now
Muted to a stuttering stagger
Yet the hand I hold is constant
Poetry by josephus
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Written on 2019-07-24 at 00:00
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