Home

My skin prickles from the 

freezing chill of refrigerated air, 

deafening sounds of skates carving 

up the ice fills my ears. 

The slap of the puck, the crash of the boards 

quiets the chaos of my mind. 

This is my happy place. 

Tainted by angry shouts from 

overzealous parents, held back by expectations, 

ruled by unnecessary politics.

Still—beneath the buzzing lights, 

I find comfort in the scrape of my blades,

in the sweat that permeates my gloves, 

in my teammates’ laughter echoing off the glass.

Here, I'm more than the noise and pressure, 

I'm perseverance and commitment,

muscle and motion.

As I step on the ice, the world 

narrows to the center circle, and for once, 

I'm home.