IN THE HEYDAYS OF HIS EYES
(taut jeans dancing)

An Anthology of Poetry about Being Young and Growing Up
 
 
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Evangeline Paterson

The idiot boy in the outfield gallops, eye on the ball. Eye on the fly-half's leap, he leaps too. When the full-back flings his length in the mud he too, on the tussocky verges, acts out despair. He dodges, weaves, feints, follows the action in slow motion, pounds the length of the field again, again and goes home unbruised, unmuddied. When all the players are bedded and snoring like trombones, he, wakeful, watches an elliptical moon eluding him in the sky.

 
 
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