New Poem based on The Letters

Father, Skating, 1923

Lean into the wind father

let skates speed you

across frozen pond

in this harsh winter of 1923

when pits are thick with ice

and all you care about

is learning to go on two skates

those home-made blades

carrying you in a hard-won glide

into a back spin as you show off

your new found skills. No-one

taught you or held your hand

helped you up when you fell

time after time, except yourself.

Enjoy your triumph, Dad,

for all too soon your childhood

will crash to its ending.

For now you’re just a boy

who buys a clockwork engine

with carefully totted tips.

All too soon you’ll be a man

at twelve years old, handing

pay over to keep family fed,

your mother ill in bed,

your father given up to drink,

the young ones arguing.

Skate on, enjoy the free flow

as your blades whistle on ice.

It’s not yet time to go in from play.