In the loops of figure skating

My son, the ice skater, quotes Hotel California when talking about the legions who are part of the figure skating community.. “You can check out any time you like; but you can never leave.”  It’s true. Tonight the world of skating turns in my head as faces come to the fore as in a snowglobe. Programs, dresses, organizational details, morning drives, quiet rinks watching school figures – meditation in almost perfect silence except for the sound of compressors as backdrop.

I wrote this in response to a prompt yesterday. I am putting it here on my blog today in celebration of all who skate and all who watch them.   My eye doctor’s son, Josh Reagan whom I’ve known since he was six or seven and is now twenty-one won with his partner, Ashley Cain, U.S. Nationals Junior Pairs yesterday.  A huge accomplishment. I so clearly remember the days we cherished getting three skaters to regionals.  It’s a long journey.

My life is made of so many turns,

an edge dance of counters & brackets,

twizzles & threes waltzing

spinning, skating with ease.

Now March,  the team leaves for Junior Worlds.  My eye doctor canceled my appointment and I am still in Arlington.  The beach will wait. The OneStopPoetry team will go to New York City to the Shorty Awards and I will meet old and new friends while there. Then back for appts. and off to the beach if all goes well.  The Cannon Open, always held on the days my husband died and named in honor of him will be in July.  I will be back for that as always.  My son will not as he always has a conflict.  I am wishing Josh and Ashley good fortune.  If they win, they will be in line for a place at Seniors in next year’s International Events.  My heart is full as I consider that they are taking a lifetime of Dallas dreams with them in their hunt for a National / Olympic Senior medal.  All my best.

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NOCTURNE (A Villanelle)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I cannot find you in the summer’s leaves,
Or hear your music in the moontime’s song,
The shadow shapes become the faceless breeze.

Across a cubist’s landscape of elm trees,
On midnight’s wave, I hear the steeple’s gong,
I cannot find you in the summer’s leaves.

When emerald stars through satin dreams, increase
Their spell and thus my fantasy prolong,
The shadow shapes become the faceless breeze.

Of velvet indigos, the night then weaves
Its magic carpet  which bears me along,
I cannot find you in the summer’s leaves.

In caravels I sail Aegean Seas
And touch the columns that I dance among,
The shadow shapes become the faceless breeze.

At last within my grasp   No, it deceives
Me, and I reach to find the vision gone.
I cannot see you in the summer’s leaves,
The shadow shapes become the faceless breeze.

© Gay Reiser Cannon All Rights Reserved

 

Haiku

In  silk  satin   pearls
close your eyes and dream a dance
to the milky way

The wind whispers lies
the sun burns them with its truth
the ashes fall like snow

Imagine a place
where sea winds blow in wisdom
and waves break with love.

Water laps jetty rocks
the full moon skims silver waves
a heron dives for it

Caterpillar crawls
along the dark wet branches
a detached boxcar.

Beyond the footbridge
past the clock in the steeple
we will walk through time

(c) Gay Reiser Cannon

All Rights Reserved