Your from up here, long dark winters,
snow that stays until spring, frozen lakes.
I’m from warmer climes. Mostly it rains.
The days are overcast. Not often freezing.
I am as unsure and wobbly as a new born fawn,
out on the ice in these skates, your brother’s old pair.
I cling to you to stay up, almost like a child in a crowd,
as we slowly slide out farther on the ice, beneath stars.
I laugh, and you laugh. Me nervous, you amused.
Our breaths are like speech balloons in old comic books.
I try to stand on my own. You have to catch me again.
I can stand, slowly, gingerly, move myself in squiggles.
You elegantly make circles around me, almost float.
The night is bitter, and I shiver, but my chest is flushed.
My cheeks too. Girlishly, you cover your mouth as you giggle.
Then you take my hands in yours, and we skate side by side.
Silent now, just us, to stars that were almost embers in the night,
now bright and burning bright again, the cold night be damned!
The stars are endless here. The things we will be even more so.