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Ten minutes to kick-off.
We are part of a waiting world.
On the field, a synchronisation of watches.
Sceptical footballers make
Nervous signs of the cross
And glance heavenward
One stands palms upward
Another ties his lace.
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Over in England, the clouds begin to lift
Pulses of hope
Cross the country from west to east.
The stakes at Ladbroke’s grow extravagant
And crusader cars, full-rigged with flags, sail down the orbital road
To a land of new-found certainty
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Now the market-place is deserted
We can follow the game from out here
Volcanic roars detonate the evening air
Pub windows and doors
Are open to the sound of euphoria
A warm front cradles the town
Above the moonlit canal.
Folk drink deep to victory, and wonder
How long before this revelry subsides?