Falling Awake

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 I had a job
Stick with the number ten
Don’t let him turn
No chances
Keep it tight
My sort of game
The Cup
Could be spotted
Keep it tight
No chances
Either side
Our winger breaks
Everything slows
I see the gap
Feel space
That rare time
Angles and speed
And I’m running
The ball’s good
He saw me
Low and hard
Past the last man
I’m there
Sliding, stretching
Boot touching
But not enough
Rolling and
Hitting the ground
Thirty years
I remember
Hitting the ground.

Source: https://footballpoets.org/poems/falling-awake/