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Ode to football

January 17, 2011
By ZsaZsa BRONZE, New York
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ZsaZsa BRONZE, New York
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We race down the field
As the crowd cheers for us
The smell of autumn leaves and
Wet grass grazes my nose when
The cool breeze sweeps over head
The ball flings in the air
And I run faster than a bobcat to catch it
My palms like a river
Almost drop it
I run to the goal post and
We won
Stadium lights, screaming fans
And as soon as it started it ends
Just like that
Over

© Martha V., Morton Grove, IL

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