Good Sons

By Francis Marion

 

His suit soaks

in the sink,

its surface

red

with the blood

that flows

from kevlar,

lycra,

and leather.

In the corner,

a scrum

at high speed,

two by two

they pivot

until a boot

catches

the surface.

 

Down!

He goes,

out of

control,

into a matt

and the board,

an explosion

in the corner

of the

arena.

 

The crowd

Gasps!

and he’s

still,

a second

a minute

maybe more

everything

moves in slow

motion

forever.

 

Then he rolls

slowly,

over

to his belly

then up,

the ice turns

a dark crimson

where

he

kneels.

 

As he shakes

his head clear,

He gets

to his feet

and skates

through the

crowd

to the

exit.

 

Wounded

but living,

Are you ok?

and the medics

place him

atop of

their

gurney.

 

His suit

red with

the colors

of his team

and his clan

they wipe

his face

clean

with a

towel.

 

They poke,

and they prod

Mother watches

in the stands

her hands

covering

her face

while

she waits.

 

He who gets A’s

dreams of

music,

and

far aways

never fails

then falls

and

gets up.

 

Neither fearless

nor afraid

he knows now

no gain

without effort,

no progress

without

risk.

 

All in all

a good day

He says he’ll

still play.

Good sons

are God’s gift

to proud

parents.

As an Amazon Associate I Earn from Qualifying Purchases
Subscribe
Notify of
guest
8 Comments
hardscrabble farmer
hardscrabble farmer
January 22, 2017 7:27 am

Good sons are indeed God’s gift.

Sounds like rugby plays a role in your family as well.

ILuvCO2
ILuvCO2
  hardscrabble farmer
January 22, 2017 8:41 am

Yes indeed.

javelin
javelin
January 22, 2017 7:33 am

or hockey… 2 beautiful and intelligent daughters. A son could have been wonderful.

james the deplorable wanderer
james the deplorable wanderer
January 22, 2017 3:38 pm

Very nice. Learned something new today. Thanks, FM.

Count Zero
Count Zero
January 22, 2017 3:55 pm

Hmm-mmm, not at all certain what to call your latest offering; maybe an epigram or a Horatian ode or even a bit of iambic pentameter, but it certainly served the purpose of providing us with a change of pace from the usual postings here — what ever you chose to call it. Very creative, Mr Marion. Thank you.