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Last Night’s Game

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Sylvia Plath
Might’ve stood here once
Where I am sitting
The Bob Lord Stand
Clarets to the left and to the right
No April snowdrops no IndianPipes
And like me
Cold and swept up
But they have passion for warmth
And a Liverpool own goal
I have Biscan forlorn and lonely Traore
Whilst Baros races shadows and hopes
Into the mud
There is no Lazarus here
Daddy left long ago
The Child remains
Subdued and lips frozen
Songs on the last bus home
Just like the past
Waiting still to catch up.

Notes

FA Cup 3rd Round – Burnley 1 Liverpool 0

Source: https://footballpoets.org/poems/last-nights-game/