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Greetings! Another Project 27 poem for you here. Not sure what I’m at by now 😉 Probably more than 27. Today’s poem is named Goalposts.

 

Goalposts

Here I stand

I can go no further.

Well, literally not, there’s a swamp of mud

between me and the net.

Sweat pouring down my neck

waiting for the ball to roll closer

through the mob of children kicking, shoving,

falling onto the damp grass.

I squint, eyes narrow.

Arms spread, knees shaking, praying

Please don’t shoot

Defense fails

the sweet, terrifying thwack

of a hard kick.

Dead center.

Can’t miss.

Right?