|September mood 2020 Linda Mitchell|
Hello there, September!
Come on in -- let's catch up. Have you noticed the unusual times? Being month nine in the line-up may have encumbered your view. I'm hoping that you'll bring gentleness to the end of the summer. We sure could use it.
This week, Carol is rounding up our poetry at Beyond Literacy. Be sure to visit her there for all the goodies.
After a summer break, the Sunday Night Swaggers are back to challenging each other. This month's challenge comes from Catherine who asked us to write an In One Word poem introduced to our community by April Wayland.
I wrote a haibun with tanka for the word, futbol.
A year or maybe a century ago I used to arrive at school, gather my lunch bag, purse, and phone, and head into a crowd of tweens and teens at my school’s main entrance. Always, there was at least one game of futbol running. On the outer fringes, past knots of kids chatting, texting—heads bent over phones, backpacks piled up in heaps—goals. In that grassy area right outside the library entrance, students in futbol logo t-shirts ran full speed. You’d think it was an actual World Cup match. I made my way through the shampoo scented spectators spiced with fresh bubble gum, breakfast burritos, and yellow bus exhaust. Good morning, excuse me, good morning, excuse me…a mix that always felt like a blessing as the game stretched into overtime until the first bell.
past the parking lot
a familiar shout -- foul!
ball sails, kids bolt
umph! Keeper hit by a lout
world cup middle school futbol