On the green of the battlefield
Blood, paint, and sweat
Commingle with the morning's rain
And bellows of the lookers on
The trajectory of each volley
Each exchange gives rise and fall
To their communal gasp and sigh
Band moms, popular girls
Coach dads and drama dudes
All their angst focused pointedly
At a brown, leather oblong
Like the flightless bird
We know can take wing
And slip free of gravity
To graze the sun's glory
-mja
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