I often wondered what position you'd have played if you'd been interested in football, if Brandon hadn't been the football player in the family. You've experienced some trials that many will never go through, and you've allowed them to turn you into the man you've become. I'm so proud of you. Happy Birthday. I love you.
That One
beneath the glare of the stadium lights
all eyes are on the high arc of the football
except mine
I watch him--that one
waiting, expectant, his pliable stance
anticipating exactly how far to move forward
where to place his hands
for the perfect catch
he is ready
although he always hated
being the center of attention
and never let me give him a birthday party
not for any number of Ninja Turtle figurines
but he’ll stand in the limelight now
with the same focus
for the right game
the ball falls gracefully
giving him time to think
judge where to place his body
how many steps between adolescence and manhood
moving forward
anticipating the exact second
the ‘whhhoot’ sound that only he will hear
when time, space and matter meet in his open, steady hands
he wedges the ball hard against his breast
the crook of his left arm
leans into the rush
determined, fast on his feet
like that time
north of Duschene
icicles on the sage brush
being chased over snowdrifts
not caring where he ran
navigating ravines and embankments
with those sliding-into-home moves
that had them both impressed--
how does a boy learn to run like that?
and distressed--
we better bring him back
now
he looks ahead far enough
to judge the next step
the right direction
how big the linebacker rolling toward him
how close to the goal line this time
even though it’s almost certain
he won’t make it
but the hope is worth it
a whole field of spectators cheer him on
rise to their feet
while he rushes
into the organized melee
turning left, then right
he is fast, so fast
he'll make it one day
yeah
he’s the one I watch
that one
July's Random Pics
11 years ago
