"High School Football Stadium, Alone"

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a short observation of my time at our football stadium alone. It expresses the simplicity of life, and also the struggles at hand.

Submitted: November 21, 2013

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Submitted: November 21, 2013



I stand still and barefoot on the cool metal platform.

Birds sing in a tree.

A flash of gray.

A flash of olive; looking like the river in the distance.

Then red.

A Red-eyed Viero darts across my line of vision.


The tree covered hills tall and deep,

Like bottle of wine you’ve been working on since Monday.

The images — an impressionist painting.

Streaks of brown,

Steaks of orange.


The poles nearby rage with electricity.

They pop,

They crack.

What is it like to be charged and tall?


The roads and highways in the distance roar.

Rumbles and chucking of a tractor — its engine attacking the hill.



Motion after motion, we are orbiting.


One lone tree stands up near the river.

Red, a deep red,

It holds the shade of an aged wine

I can almost see the juice from the punctured fruit

As it rolls across the beaten pickers’ hands.

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