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Goalkeeper

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Eight feet high,
Eight yards wide,
Between those posts i do my work,
Quarter inch of white rubber
Guarding my bony bony fingers.
They come in the air and
On the ground,
Slow balls, fast balls
My eyes fixed on the threat
Of the firing squad.
Different shirt,
Different movement,
My neck is a pillar of stone.
Eleven players opposition,
Ten of my own and the
Three in black.
All of them against me.

Notes

This was written whilst driving through West Wales with my university football team. I think you can guess that we’d lost. Thank you for taking the time to read my poem.

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/goalkeeper-2/