poem: ice skating


Not exactly about ice skating. I wrote this years ago, and I own the copyright.

From time to time, I hear of someone imagining something that is
bad. Or silly. Or hateful.

Me, I try to imagine various things. Some of them silly, some of
them fun, some in remembrance.

And some, that will probably never happen.

Like this one…

( I open my hand. In it is a small sphere, that blossoms into
light, and dreams.)

(start of poem.)

It started a number of years ago.

Well, not exactly right away.

First, it started out as explorations out to Earth’s upper

Then, into the beginnings of space.

Then, satellites out to the Earth’s Moon, and beyond.

Then, Humanity’s landing on the Moon.

Explorations to Mars, colonies on Mars.
Colonies on the Earth’s Moon.

Trips by people out to Jupiter, Saturn, even distant Pluto.

A few small colonies out there in the Deep Dark,
in this solar system.

Then, generation ships out to Alpha Centauri, Vega,
and many other points in this spiral galaxy we call Home.

The third millennium was drawing to a close.

How to celebrate it ?

Well, there would be celebration everywhere humans were,
dances, parties, get togethers,
some raucous, some quiet.

Some large, some small.

A group of folks wanted to go one further.

An ice skating event,
that would be unlikely to be forgotten.

Out there, between Pluto’s orbit,
and the Oort Cloud,
and ice skating rink would be built.

Freighters toiled for years,
bringing water ice to the proposed location.

The structure sublime.

Its true size not mentioned.

Every ice skater in the system tried out for that event.

Many made it, many did not.

Came the day,
3 days before the new millennium started.

Light time being taken into consideration.

The lights,
in slow orbit around yon edifice,
come alight,
the skaters start,
over a thousand strong.

A giant line of them,
wearing skate outfits,
over vac-suits,
both tailored just so.

That line goes for a hundred yards,
and then breaks up,
into various pin wheels,
of fifty skaters each.

Under such micro-gravity,
the leaps lasted for hours,
the skates flashing,
in the vacuum of space.

Swirls and jumps,
the skaters making formations,
showing objects like spaceships,
mountain streams,
the wind blown sands of Mars,
oh !
the lost ships from days long ago,
and at last,
they finished.

They bowed.

There were no encores.

But it was filmed and recorded,
so that it could be seen over again.

And so humans greeted,
the Third Millennium.

[ exeunt]

Categories General, poem