hockey bag
still open
from the last pillage:
shin pads, helmet screws,
worn holey Habs socks
smell of ol'gear
and glory
fill the basement
the monk long retired
from the sport
considers a comeback
first step:
sunlight and August breeze
There were actually three bags open...September hockey looms; and stinks.
Thanks for the peek into the past!
ReplyDeleteI can see the novices gearing up! Cool! Tired Monk can maybe coach??
ReplyDeleteNothing like the smell of sweat looming from those bags...
ReplyDeleteHoney and sweat. Two contrasting smells. Interesting.
ReplyDeleteReminded me of my cross-country running kit after a hard day in the mud!
ReplyDeleteV. good poem.
Yes, sunlight and August breeze would indeed help. LOL.
ReplyDeleteI'd agree - if that's sunlight soap before the Autumn breeze bit! Great poem...
ReplyDelete....ah the smell of glory....love this Ollie!
ReplyDelete:-)
Yes, sports do weave their magic! Come back huh...
ReplyDeleteguess the Monk isn't so tired ;D
I loved your imagery...Well Done~
Old Ollie,
ReplyDeleteIt is good to know that Tired old monk, is still athletic and sporty.
I'm sure he can find the path to the laundry room!!!
Best wishes, Eileen
Oh I do like this one--that old gear smell! Glad you are considering a come-back! This one made me smile.
ReplyDelete