Middle School Football

Our sons, their plastic shoulders dream
Of manhood. Each time a body falls
And a groan rises up like a man,
And the body is rolled or limps off field,
Holding a stomach, a wobbled leg,
There is a mother somewhere.
Maybe her eyes water, too.


One Response to “Middle School Football”

  1. eduardo says:

    And it’s not necessarily the mother of the wounded warrior whose eyes water.

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