Cold Days at the Pitch
By John Lambo
Aboard a day in Sue’s minivan loaded with soccer balls,
Across two local towns,
Along steep hills and long roads,
To a turf field owned by Joel Barlow,
At the bottom of a hill,
Underneath a bright blue sky,
On the turf: Brendan, Tommy, and Derrick,
Outside, tall green trees,
Beyond freezing, gold minivan parked,
Through gates and rocky paths,
Aboard the pitch, we unpacked our bags,
Without caring about the cold,
We played soccer
Nicely done, John. Except you exceeded the word count for the last line by one. Maybe instead of “We played soccer” (three words) you could do, well, . . . why don’t you come up with something?