Noah Cain | top of the east end bridge | Glass: A Journal of Poetry

Noah Cain teaches high school English and coaches hockey in Winnipeg, Manitoba. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in CV2, carte-blanche, The Nashwaak Review, and The Winnipeg Review. Noah grew up in Thunder Bay, Ontario.

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Also by Noah Cain: Helpless Estate A Slave to the Jungle

Tundras
November 2017
edited by Rosebud Ben-Oni

Noah Cain

top of the east end bridge

the golden dome of the ukrainian orthodox church of the assumption of the blessed virgin mary shines at four thirty sunset and I spit on a braking train think about it freezing against the january metal — the lights come on at charry park and I descend my hands in hockey gloves won't be cold for long, my skate blades suspended on my stick won't be dry for long. they carve, shovels scrape    the best ice in town —  my  wrist shot then my favourite sound:  hard rubber on a cold post    and someone calling me  crafty.      tippy-toed  look  through  the shack's  barred windows  for familiar  headlights  as  teenagers roll  joints and  the water arching   from  the  rink-rat's firehose  freezes whole the ice's imperfect surface.

I grew up in Thunder Bay, Ontario, a small city on the north shore of Lake Superior. In the winters I spent a lot of time on the outdoor hockey rink at Charry Park. I was thinking about toughness, healing, the East End (my old neighbourhood), and hockey as I was writing this poem. Ice is hard but it needs to be cared for.

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