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“The Tie”


This poem is autobiographically actual. The selected details are as accurate as I could record them. The two fathers in the poem gave me their consent to use their names and profiles. In this piece, I explore several ties, twins, dualities, opposites, pivots, turning points.


THE TIE (June 22, 2010)

Postponed because of rain
then rescheduled for
what turns out to be
a rare dry spell
between two summer showers —
your last soccer game ever
for the Albany city team
being played this evening
on rural fields
near Farm to Market Road.
a new pale blister on the rise.
Two fathers, both named Lee,
are faithful fans of every
fall-to-spring season:
Rebecca’s dad walks the sidelines
raising and dropping the flag
for wayward balls;
Maggie’s dad watches
with his other daughter
from a folding chair on the grass.
And near the players’ bench
the large kind coach
bellows his tough love:
Let’s make something happen, girls!
I stand during both halves of the game
alone on a sloping bank
watching you give your utmost
as Number 6 in midfield.
Stamina: you have always put forth
your best. Ten years of running
fast and nimble-footed
and of keen passes, unselfish
assists. Plus several goals
shot straight from the laces
of your indoor or outdoor cleats.
Behind me on other fields
new younger players
kick and dribble, their parents
or grandparents cheering.
Once I was like them
in rookie training. But now
I am a veteran
of many standoffs, suspended
yet one more time tonight
between two strategies
for a mother’s end game:
crying or clapping.
After a late-game rally,
your team ties it up at 3 to 3.
by Therese L. Broderick

About ThereseLBroderick

Independent community poet living in Albany, New York USA.

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