Wednesday 26 February 2014

Deking the Deer

Long past mid-night,
traveling through winter’s dark,
following the snake-back of Draper Road.
Trees…telephone poles…rat-a-tat past,
I’m at least 30km over legal,
reliving the game—the pass
that scored
the only goal.
Sweat dries on my spine as
the blood cools.

There he is: straddling the centre line,
a six-point buck of a d-man,
ready to go, caught
large in the lights.
White-crested jersey
in my face.
We make our moves, no
sticks on the ice.
He wheels left: I deke right,
in a dangle that would have
done Messier proud.
Sweat collects on my spine as
the adrenaline rips…

by Cathy Yard
Words In Motion 2014

No comments:

Post a Comment