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Night Ice Skating
Edwin Romond


I don’t ask to do Olympic jumps and spins or
head down, one arm behind my back race skating.
I just wish to stay up 10 minutes on my skates
in the middle of the night down a frozen river
surrounded by trees on shore looking like
bookends in the darkness.  Just 10 minutes to do
what I‘ve never been able to do: skate without falling,
my scarf air born like the ones on kids in Norman
Rockwell paintings. Just 10 minutes to propel
myself down a river, my skate blades engraving
the ice, my gloved hands out like a surfer,
a January moon lighting my jubilant way.

This poem first appeared in The Stillwater Review.
Used here with permission.

Edwin Romond  is a poet, playwright, and composer. Now retired, he taught English for more than 30 years in Wisconsin and New Jersey. Edwin's award-winning work has appeared in numerous literary journals, college text books, and anthologies, and has been featured on National Public Radio. His newest collection, Man at the Railing, from NYQ Books, recently won the Laura Boss Narrative Poetry Award. A native of Woodbridge, New Jersey, Edwin now lives in Wind Gap, Pennsylvania, with his wife. Learn more about him at




Post New Comment:
Excellent poem describing the power of determination to accomplish a goal!
Posted 01/30/2021 09:41 AM
Lori Levy:
Beautifully expressed.
Posted 01/28/2021 08:21 PM
Janet Leahy:
Love the skate blades engraving the ice, I can hear the sound that the blades make, just a great poem. Thanks Edwin.
Posted 01/28/2021 07:21 PM
This brings back wonderful memories of skating on the frozen pond in Loose Park (Kansas City, MO). The city would also let water stand in some of the larger fountains so they'd freeze over, and it was a delight to skate over the water that , in summer, was a lovely place to splash and stay cool!
Posted 01/28/2021 01:09 PM
As soon as I began to read this poem it brought back a memory from my youth. During the Christmas holidays in 1945, at age 10, I went ice skating on a Saturday afternoon. I probably fell a lot but mostly turned/twisted my ankles. On Sunday I woke up with painful, swollen ankles and was unable to walk. We assumed it was from the skating experience. However, on Monday when the doctor made a house call he announced that I had Acute Rheumatic Fever. The only treatment at that time was bed rest and I spent the next six months in bed.
Posted 01/28/2021 12:37 PM
Sharon Waller Knutson:
Loved this picturesque poem. Favorite line: Just 10 minutes to propel myself down a river, my skate blades engraving the ice, my gloved hands out like a surfer, a January moon lighting my jubilant way.
Posted 01/28/2021 12:10 PM
Trees as bookends in the darkness! Great! M Z Windau
Posted 01/28/2021 11:32 AM
Edwin, what lovely imagery. I'm there now, enjoying the quiet punctuated by Swish! Swish!
Posted 01/28/2021 10:21 AM
Stephen Anderson:
Nice imagery of something many of us would love to do. Nice poem, Edwin.
Posted 01/28/2021 08:23 AM
Darrell Arnold:
I think you have to be at an elevated of maturity (old) to understand the imagery of scarves blowing out straight like those of kids in Norman Rockwell paintings. I, for sure understand it, see it, and get it. Nice work.
Posted 01/28/2021 07:46 AM
Larry Schug:
This poem, especially the last line, brings back memories of a particular night forty or more years ago,skating under a full moon on clear ice all by myself-a transcendent moment. Thank you so much, Edwin.
Posted 01/28/2021 07:20 AM

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