Skating
SKATING
I pull on my hat
The lake top stretches flat
To the far shore
Knife edge smooth and more
Leaning with the breeze
And aiming at distant trees
My skates bite the ice
Cutting straight and twice
Wind in ears and the chill
Make it seem I never will
Reach that frosted forested place
No matter how fast I race
Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2016
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