Is it stupid to miss the awful smell

of body odor, of hockey?

Am I crazy to miss the hours spent freezing

in the rink?

I didn’t play, but I was a hockey sister.

An era of our lives is gone.

 

Skating was like breathing to them,

my hockey brothers.

I watched them

grow up.

I watched them

grow apart to separate teams.

 

The hockey sisters grew apart too,

went to separate colleges.

We were built-in friends when the team traveled.

Now, we’re only memories.

 

Justice is not done.

One poem cannot encapsulate years.

But it’s a start.

Goodbye, Sharks.

Poetry

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *