Pig Skin
¶ 1
Leave a comment on verse 1 0
A huddle then break, having plotted escape.
A symphony of body and mind.
The defense is overt, the offense alert.
Golden hand in the pocket, well lined.
With balance and grace he passes while chased.
Pin-pointing his open man.
Is’nt it sweet and oh so complete.
When the pig’s received in the right hands.
Comments
0 Comments on the whole Poem
Create an account to leave a comment on the whole Poem
0 Comments on verse 1
Create an account to leave a comment on verse 1