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| HOCKEY DAD
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When you are told your young boy
will probably no longer walk
by the age of eight or nine.
By eighteen will likely
become a grass-weaver of spirits
or a spinner of trees, graze
with gazelles. When you're told
to watch for frequent falls
and ankle flexors tightening,
freezing into contortions.
Well then, to see him, for one moment,
slap a plastic puck
with a plastic hockey stick
softly across the floor,
raising his arms, he shoots, he scores!
Is like seeing a lifetime of sons
playing the pros, busting
each other on the boards.
The crowd roars, he races
through the defense, passes the puck
across the crease, sets up
for the blistering drive, oh
the big save! We live
as simply as the first
skate marks
on the surface of ice.
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from The Wind is a Tall Man Striding
watershedBooks
2000
Copyright © Jim Slominski
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