Sunday, 17 January 2021

17. Boy Skates

The group was called White Lightning.

We played hard and we played fast

on a small-town rink

on late Friday nights.

 

At the end of the night

we’d gather in the dressing room,

half-dressed, sweating like pigs.

We’d drink ice-cold beer

like pros.

 

One year we ordered jackets,

team jackets.

I ordered my jacket.

It’s black and white,

and has stitching on it.

White Lightning,

Number 18.

 

I finally got my number.

I finally got my boy skates.

It took over forty years

but dreams don’t die,

until they get fulfilled.

 

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