OctPoWriMo Poem 17 – Fresh Air

Needing fresh air
I retrieve my parka and boots
And sneak out the pantry door
Of my aunt’s crowded house
And into the frigid January night
Counting against frostbite
I dig my mittens out of my pockets
And pull my hat down over my ears

My boots squeak against the packed snow
Someone is burning cedar
A hockey stick cracks against the ice
And I remember you, one
Christmas, skating by yourself
The sun slanting gold
Across the impromptu rink at the lake edge

Do you ever come home, too,
And long to escape again
The moment you arrive?

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