At the Ice Rink

ice-rink

The echoing rink spun with laughter so loud
That we cut ourselves off from the rest of the crowd.
As I fell on my arse for the fifth time, she said
“Why don’t we just go get some coffee instead?”
So a few moments later, still freakishly tall
On our skates, we sat down with our coffees and small
Talk; standing our spoons in a mixture so thick
We could turn up the mugs and the coffee would stick.
And we laughed about nothing and everything – love,
Religion, the third world, the hole in my glove;
Then her face dropped an octave, and softly she told
Me her worries, and how much she feared getting old.
“There’s plenty of time left for that,” I replied,
As the draught from the ice wrapped itself round my lie.

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