Snowy Chicago morning,
I lean against the ice rink fence.
And immediately see them.
Two skaters with well worn faces,
Glide along, skating in a peaceful dance.
Again and again two pairs of feet lift and
Gently return to the ice
Wordlessly they understand the next move.
Their movements, their grace,
Spoke of a dance from a different time.
Their skating, their style,
Told tales no one else can know.
Look at us, they seem to say,
We have weathered life’s storms.
They lift their skates effortlessly,
Swaying and skating in sync, second nature.
I want to look away but cannot.
My eyes lock on them.
They dance and skate round and round the rink.
This is ours, they seem to say,
This moment, this place.
We skated with life’s sorrows and joys
And made it through
To this place
On this cold winter morning
In a busy city ice rink.