Peace

[Jimster41]

New to the forum. Scanning for poems that I can connect to, this is one. It is the kind of poetry I like, spare. One image constructed. I can't describe how I feel about the choice of what perception is worth loving - a bunch of buzzed friends playing pond hockey, but I have it in my head now and I find it moving in a way that is familiar and welcome - the black sky is there, I see trees, and I can see the clouds of breath and hear it - I even start to think about the shit talk, and is there one guy who likes to try to crack everyone up and bust balls, reading it again I get the feeling of sweating in the cold - a distinct pleasure, and snow that touches eyelashes and lips and melts so fast you can taste it, mixed with the salt.

I'm not even a hockey fan, though my wife is from Canada, so I can definitely appreciate the drama of it (and get that this poem is a practitioner's ode to it's invention).

I don't think it's necessary, or even wanted, but maybe it is, to see what someone else's bias for structure would make your expression look like, feel like.

Lovely poem.

After a few beers
the game
and a couple laughs at the bar
the boys and I will head down to the pond
for some midnight shinny.
 
Beneath a black sky
old flood lights,
we fight over rubber
with wooden sticks
in falling snow
warmed by
the thoughtless sweat
of war