Out in the freezing weather,
amidst the fallen and still-falling snow,
layers of clothing bulky, but practical,
frosty breath visible in the air,
eight of them, guys and girls both,
gathered in defiance of the cruel elements,
determined to have their game
and to hell with Jack Frost.
Indeed, they seem not to even notice
the bitter cold and fading light
as they run and walk back and forth
on their makeshift field,
frisbee whirling through the air.
A point, and the teams switch sides.
Equal teams from what I can tell,
and friendly -
tackles and dives
invariably followed by laughter
and assurances of no hurt gained.
I can't tell which team is winning.
I wonder if they even keep score.
It's more an informal game
than actual competition,
played just for the sake of playing.
Watching them throw,
it's obvious they're good
and just as obvious they enjoy the game -
why else would they be out there,
in snow and cold and gathering darkness
and still have the time of their lives?

01/16/2003

Author's Note: An opposite experiment from A Pear. This was an assignment to distance yourself from something. I picked a scene, observed it without being a part of it, without them knowing I observed, and wrote where my thoughts led me from watching them.

Posted on 01/17/2003
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