I skate alone,
lake ice smooth
beneath dull blades.
I spin and trace
slow figure eights
and lift my arms,
open wings.
Anyone watching
from a window
would see a girl
in her old black and red
snowmobile suit,
tripping on her own edges.
clumsy and faltering.
But I see flowers
being tossed
from the stands
to the rink.
I bend to gather them,
smile and wave.
No one has told
me yet it can’t
be done, this
dream, no one,
not even myself.
neato just watched a heap of golden buzzer acts on talent shows ooohed my way amazed halfway to heaven and sobbed with pride for the genius of strangers back down you go girl!!!!
It is so wonderful to be so moved by anotherâs risk, their greatness. I am the same way â¦
Watch my TEDx talk The Art of Changing Metaphors: TEDX Rosemerry Trommer
Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
970-729-1838
wordwoman.com
From: “comment-reply@wordpress.com” Reply-To: Date: Tuesday, December 5, 2017 at 8:34 AM To: Rosemerry Trommer Subject: [A Hundred Falling Veils] Comment: “After Watching the Olympics in Second Grade, A Look Back”