Childhood Winters, Fredericton

by Ihor Pidhaney

In the Winter of 1965,

you put me outdoors

in a rocking basket

to lull me to sleep,

but almost dozed off

before recalling your baby

howling in the wind.

In the Winter of 1966,

the car parked in the garage,

you forgot me in the stairwell.

Frozen to the bottom step

a shoe came undone

as I scampered to the light.

In the Winter of 67

we went tobogganing

at midnight. You said,

“Hold on, this will make you,

a man.” I outvoiced

the wolves beneath the silver moon.

In the winter of 68,

we left the frigid Maritimes behind.

Youngstown, Auburn, Toronto,

Chongqing, Qingdao, Majia,

Stillwater, Marietta, Atlanta

Never stood a chance.

BIO: Born in Canada, Ihor Pidhainy lives in Atlanta. His poetry has appeared in Washington Square Review, The Louisville Review, In Parentheses, The Alchemical Spoon and other journals. He has two chapbooks out, and his poem, "A teacher looks up" (Teach. Write. A Literary Journal for Writing Teachers) has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Follow him on instagram pidhainyihor facebook: Ihor Pidhainy's writings, Bluesky: @ipidhainy