For beauty, the men came toward us across the field,
and when they stood trance-still, or when they backed
hard against the wall, it seemed part of some
greater design, or when one swung, twisting
his torso and bending his knees at the same time
as the ball flew and the crowd erupted,
I was in thrall to all of them, because they held back
Then hit for their lives, because one gently lifted
his arm to meet the ball as if his own child
were falling toward him through thin air.
I even laughed at the men throwing beer
which drizzled onto my hair, and the one
yelling obscenities at the other team.
The blinding lights helped me see
their perfection, and I became a devotee-
not just for the sake of my sons, my arms around them-
though it was strange to be a women then,
to love them that much, the arena
filled me with men who were ready and had chosen
their weapons, so when the ball disappeared
for the last time all of us screamed
and rose from our seats so grateful
for our own violence which got us
this far without torture or mutilation,
and to one team brought to their knees,
and to the heroes, small in distance,
holding each other, rejoicing.
Leasing News
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