A Pound of Turf

And now the reputation meets the line

The play is called

The snap

The mass confusion

Pounding blocks

And shoulder to shoulder blows

And a seam just parts

As you take the handoff and run

And I am the turf you tread in all your glory.

 

I feel your weight

Your power and your strength

All the nights of coaches’ hopeless words

Telling you, you would never make the big cut

Your resentment rips the painted numbers

The chalked outline of yardage to be gained

And all your love and all your hate together

Churn me into furrows in your field

And you pound me

Like a fist on disenchanted lies

That scurry away from us like baby crows

 

Oh baby

You are strong and you are true

Brilliant and bullish

Tender and charming

Everything I have ever wanted... and more

Things I never knew

I wanted

Things I never imagined...

You... are glorious

And bound for glory’s land