Win win

Whew, for the first time since 1972 The Bruins have won the Stanley Cup. This has been an amazing season! I recently wrote a hockey poem dedicated to my poet-friend Lenora. I share it here. Nuf said.

Poetry as hockey, hockey as poetry

for Lenora

The dance we do, to the moan

of the crowds, is poetry,

the scrape of blade, the knocked out

tooth — it’s poetry.

Beads of ice shimmer overhead,

necklace of stones so cold

they seem prehistoric, some age

of ice and glacial mystery

is at play here. Poetry at times

seems iced too and ancient,

beads of words strung above

the page, waiting to come down 

from another time, waiting

for the score to be called, the pages

to be printed.  It’s all the same to me.