Night Skating in Norfolk

We are shadows
flowing under bridges
along fresh-frozen ice roads.
Our pattens scratch
our paths, our past
in the crystal glaze –
a story drawn on ice.

Moonlight glints
off the blades –
we fly, free,
gliding past
sleepy hamlets
dressed in snow
and filled with
drowsing folk.

The chill night air
nips our noses,
we take bitter biting breaths
tempered with joy.

At Huddles Bridge
we snowplow to a stop.
Turn our shadow selves around
and follow the ribbon
of moonlit river rime
towards home –
and hearth.

Alyson Faye
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