Wilson Field, Early Fall 1978

The character of sunlight at noon,
Pouring down like golden rain,
Before the game began
When we were trotting across the field
And the thick, green grass was so welcoming,
Cantering across the yardlines
Like young colts, kicking, smiling
Laughing in the yellow sunshine
Popping each other playfully
For this was a game,
Despite its martial tendencies
And the language of war and struggle
For this is a game of territory, like capture the flag,
But a game, nonetheless, for boys,
In colorful play uniforms, just boys,
Numbered, decorated playclothes, for boys
Having fun in the sunshine.