Avoidance

When the weather refuses to dip

below zero, head to the white mountains

of the hockey arena.

Explorers, pioneers, triumphant

as we stake our claim, curl fists

around clumps of abandoned snow.

Too busy playing to watch

slow forming puddles that gather

by discarded toques, dusty snow boots.

Hurl armfuls of snow at one another,

onto the pavement and into the air, fill the sky

with the sound of laughter, shouting,

an endless stream of snowballs.

As the day wears on and our arms grow tired, our aim

less accurate, still attempt to save ourselves

from oncoming missiles, fatigue,

the too hot sun.