The first time I watched
With my family at my side,
Cold, and covered up
With the weight of the crowd.
The sleek cutting
Of ice down below,
Sweat dripping salt
Of determination and hard work.
The silent awe and,
Cheering of the people
Around me; flanking.
The woven knit of my
Black, thin gloves;
Cold seeping though them.
The smell of the cold
Air around me, breath
Chilling, a mid-air freeze
Of panting and cheer.
The constant bang of
Bodies against the boards
Sends the crowd into
Pitiful remission; pain.
Intermission sends my father
And I to the concessions, for
Snacks and refreshments.
The thrill of the game
Engulfing me in utter
Deliverance of each blow,
Breakaway to the net,
The shot and the goal.