I grew up with skates that looked kind of like those, metal ones that required a key and fitted over your shoes. Skating was faster than walking but not fast enough to risk major injury--a bit of road rash or a fractured wrist maybe. I cannot imagine taking them on a steep hill.

Fine narrative poem, full of evocative details and emotion. Thank you for not spoiling it with rhymes.

Edward Robson, PhD, MFA
Edward Robson, PhD, MFA

Written by Edward Robson, PhD, MFA

Former psychologist, wordsmith, teacher, learner. Top writer in feminism, relationships, poetry, and other topics. ECRobson@gmail.com

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