Ice skates for Christmas. Couldn’t wait to try.
Visions of Viking goddesses elegantly, gliding,
like white swans on clear, azure mirrors.
Falling down and clawing up again. Shaking body
up righting on slick ice. Hovering over butter knife
edges, wondering if my lashed windows will see
tomorrow’s dawn.
Whoopsie daisy! Am I crazy? Preschool skaters
swarming me like tormented bees! Heaped where
I fell, with frost bitten pride, stunned I have lost
my youthful touch.
Proudly, twice around Soldier’s Field rink.
Clinging to my pipe cage, my saving grace.
100,000 calories burnt from fright of broken
bones or loss of life.
Elegant swan, I may never be, but gratefully still
whole, with a well padded soul. Viking goddess
only in my dreams …
ADVERTISEMENT
Kenna Sandborn is an interior designer, artist and photographer from Byron.
The Post Bulletin publishes poetry by local and area writers every Tuesday. Send poems to life@postbulletin.com with the subject line "Poetry submission."
The Trust Project
