Don’t ask me how I am here <br />standing next to the pro quarterback <br />as he lofts one down the practice field. <br />There should be a vapor trail on that one <br />as it descends into the next county <br />with smart bomb accuracy <br />and almost makes you believe in sanctity, <br />or better yet, romance. <br /> <br />I’d forgotten how nothing else matters <br />in the moments after your first kiss. <br />I turn. <br />He’s over there looking at a clipboard.<br /><br />Michael Philips<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/normally-i-hate-sports/
