The Game

October 16, 2007
This pastime is at a stand still.
The field is covered with black and white team members,
Each position is symmetrically aligned so that it is one on one
I see my competitor on the other side of the pristine and smooth field

The clock is ticking,
The scoreboard is frozen
Until someone makes a move
He looks left
He looks right
The graceful player sweeps in a diagonal fashion
The time is mine now to shine
I make a move no one is expecting
The pressure is on my shoulders
I motion certain players to move forward
Until one is faced with an enemy

Now I’m feeling the rush
Palms are sweating
I can see the anticipation of my rivals
All eyeing my every move

I’m moving now
My pulse is beating profoundly
I start to become breathless.
One of my players defeats an opponent
Turns left and then right
Skill is my main component

49 minutes pass by,
I’m winning by eight
Until the man on the other side of the field
Declares, “Check mate”

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

Site Feedback