Driving towards Remembrance, Saskatchewan (a haibun)

Clear drops
on muddled windows
muddled thoughts

Saskatoon, snow drifts over wheat fields, kids skating in toques, playing shinyhockey until mom calls them to eat St. Jacob’s soup and thick heels of sourdough bread. “I got this yeast starter when your pa and I married,” she says to no child inparticular. Driving home, the road straight in snow chasm, walls pushed high by plows. Wipersscrapping, Am radio crackles minor league hockey scores, exclaiming local boys traveling by bus all night to play in Red Deer, Medicine Hat, Fort St. William, John, Albert or James, Moosejaw, 100 Mile House or maybe Moncton, New Brunswick for the Memorial Cup.  Acclaimed for dedication, perseverance, valor; intangibles – heart, character – playing in rinks named for citizens, soldiers and towns.

Rolling east
O’er muddled roads
Grinding towards remembrance

One thought on “Driving towards Remembrance, Saskatchewan (a haibun)”

  1. This opens up a host of memories of my own somewhat apathetic hockey heroism in the younger day. The true spirit of hockey as a national pastime. And other cliches. Thanks.

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