Thursday, January 13, 2011


we played catch

on an uneven field

hard with frost

covered by an inch

of old and crusted snow

concealing contours

which worried our ankles

we ran till we lost our breath

our cheeks were rosy

our hands stung

each time we caught

the cold slick ball

thrown in wobbly spirals

when we finished

condensation pumped from our lungs

we attempted to blow rings

while we hobbled back

to the house

for pizza and beer.

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