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Joyce Backus
I chose this haiku because of its nostalgia of childhood. My brother would drag shovels and hockey sticks from an old station wagon, while Dad hauled fishing gear to a favorite sport on the icy lake. Practicing pirouettes on the ice after we had cleared the snow, I waited for the goal to be marked with stones.

I still love to skate at Clinton Square at night with holiday tree and city streets all alight.

It seems perfect holiday magic that snowmen would take over the ice after all other skaters head home.

Gleaming silver skates,
Smooth swish of the quick, black puck:
Goal wins cheers… or jeers.

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