I sit at the sidelines
of the green turf field,
it’s perfectly chalked lines;
admiration Springs
as I witness a first glint of girlish infatuation,
it’s first bloom, I recall the struggle
Feeling “on display” the desperation, searching for
Perfection, so imperative, composure so impossible
Facial expressions more telling than a Harlequins front cover
Their ball handling falters under the blinding glow
Of their coaches charm;
En Pointe, skilled movements, a titillating display of masculinity
8 bubbling girls their youthful, raw confidence,
mysteriously diminished.
Being a spectator has never been so comforting
would I trade times’ teachings,
the richness of years more iconic than contemporary art
For their best physical feature back?
The satiation of knowing…. wins over being 23 again
The word sexy still elicits a giggle at their age
And is still misinterpreted as the way one looks,
Rather than the way one is