Barbara Carey
zamboni bliss
in its wake, flow is reborn
the rink turns to moonlight
in its solid state
still glistening in patches
& you discover
that everything is not
more effort than it’s worth
is not workload
& the heavy overcoat
of introspection
where else can you count on
a soothing machine
to smooth the nicks & gashes,
the small resistances
that chisel at your stride
& wear you down
for a few moments
the evening is a new surface
& even after
you will skim home
with a reverie of glide
still in vour feet
0 Arc 52, Summer 2004
Arc 52, Summer 2004
