Laces

“Kick

with your laces!”

I always thought

that was funny.

Those pieces

of woven thread

have no power

over that ball.

I gave them

credit though:

they took on

the mud

the rain

smelly feet

hard hits to the face.

Sometimes when they felt

weak

scared

cold

They unknotted themselves

hoping I would stumble

let them rest.

But I,

I was their coach—

yanking them

out,

replacing them

Or

pulling them hard,

putting them back

together.

©Julie Bolitho.“Laces,” Poem. Aethlon: A Journal of Sports Literature. East Tennessee University Press: Vol. 22, No. 2 (Spring 2005), p. 136.