Frost on a frosty day by Rachel Fox

I can't remember clearly
But I think it was winter
That would explain the cold hall
The blocked nose
The coughing

But was it really a poem about snow
Or am I just thinking that
Because his name was Robert Frost
And I was something like seven
So easily misled

I don't recall the words
But can still feel the moment
Not being able to make sounds stand clear
For the coughing and constant
Nose blowing

I remember disappointment
All that practice
Thoughts of glory
Shattered quickly
By a poor score

It was nothing like the Olympics on TV
No impressive numbers
No one from Eastern Europe
Being plucky in a leotard
No gymnastics at all

There was just the coughing
A winner somewhere
A tear or two
The end of that particular drama
And home for chips and sympathy