Matthew Berg

Matthew Berg Poems

The Best Poem Of Matthew Berg

New Skates

His new skates came in the mail
He laced them good and tight
Going outside, he shivered with only his
Flannels on
There was a pond next to his house
It was frozen, he knew it
Their house was all alone for miles
So no one would care if he just skated once
It was dark when he went to the pond
But his dad rigged up a couple spotlights in
Some trees surrounding the pond
Those new skates...
By God, they were great
He weaved and shifted on the ice like Bobby Orr
'Man did Orr know how to play' he thought,
Weaving and dancing,
He was going fast too.
Too fast to tell the cold.
'Well, ' he thought, 'time to head inside'
Making one last shiver left and right,
He stopped short and watched the ice shavings fly
'I wish I could still play' he thought
He returned to the back door with a short sigh and returned to the dining room.
The light was still on, with the small wooden chandelier staring down on him.
He considered his father as he sat down and removed his skates
He tied the skates together, as any good hockey player would, and looked out the back door as he switched the light off to the pond.
He hung his head and walking to the urn, he said, 'hockey was something special back then, they played like it meant somthin' '
He clicked the light above the urn and on a little decorative nail just below the light, the son hung the new skates and he let them swing, just swing, just swing...

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