Salvatore Ala

(February 18,1959 / Canada)

The Soccer Ball


Head without a will of its own,
Blindfolded and bandaged eyes
As though returning from war;
This orb we stroke with our minds,
This round book of beginnings,
This sphere we kiss like the earth,
This earth flying into eternity;
A gift passed one to another,
Headed like a thought
That is thought by a friend
At the instant of the thought;
This globe that with love wins the game it loses,
That is discovered by a child
Amid the rubble of chaos
In the stadium of joy-for-itself.

Submitted: Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Edited: Wednesday, July 27, 2011

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