Thin Ice Someone said we’re most ourselves When things get rough Remembering the girls who gathered Round the edges of the pond In wintertime to watch, I wasn’t sure Behind the scarves were pretty mouths, We knew, and so invariably A fight broke out It must have done our souls A world of good Because the game was always Cleaner afterwards, and fast, Although by then The girls had long been gone When darkness drove us To unlace our skates and Tramp back peaceably enough Towards home I felt a virtue in the cold night air And yearned already for an icy dawn, For unexpected spectators Who just might linger after a melee To notice I was capable of Finer things ________________________________________________________________________ Emanuel E. García, A Deeper Symmetry, 2014 |