Anticipating The World Cup

Watercolor skies shrink west at that time of day when high school stadiums light up the Pennsylvanian hillsides. Fleeting, the light fights to silhouette all that stands before it, as a hidden spot would light a trophy flowering Dogwood. These nights past were nights for night games under the lights and filing out, ball in hand, to Eye of The Tiger.

The tungsten clusters were bright, just enough to make certain nothing beyond these bleachers, these goalposts, was taking place. Soft soil hugged our cleats. Dew, the sun held at bay, wet the grass to fill our nostrils with earth on nights such as these when the whole world was on the line.

With luck, smells that will never be new to me again will triumph the need for future and seed memories in those yet to come.