Skating in Harlem, Christmas Day
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by Cynthia Zarin To Mary Jo Salter Beyond the ice-bound stones and bucking trees， past bewildered Mary， the Meer in snow， two skating rinks and two black crooked paths are a battered pair of reading glasses scratched by the skater's multiplying math. Beset， I play this game of tic-tac-toe. Divide， subtract. Who can tell if love surpasses？ Two naughts we've learned make one astonished 0—— a hectic night of goats and compasses. Folly tells the truth by what it's not—— one X equals a fall I'd not forgo. Are ice and fire the integers we've got？ Skating backwards tells another story—— the risky star above the freezing town， a way to walk on water and not drown. |
