First Home Game, Brighton

Our team’s flags rattle,
pegged vertically
into the Landie’s wing mirrors,
a parade-worthy sight
on Uckfield High Street:

Yet, there’s still cricket to be played,
summer holidays to be taken:
That slow countdown
to term time.

Equally slow on the Lewes bypass
“Sheer weight of traffic”:
We park in the ten quid garden,
and follow the path to the ground,

down through the  brief woods,
there, returning to The Amex,
with sun bathers on the banks
outside our East Stand!

Nottingham Forest?
One of the boys asks
about Clough, the Senior,
and their lost glory-days.

Twenty one stripes
cross the pitch,
every white line
rolled out crisp.

Seats slow-warmed
by our returned ars*s,
for the re-run return
to Premiership chances.

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