Dewy grass, sunrise,
the swirling echoes plodding-
My brothers’ feet.
Dewy grass, sunrise,
the swirling echoes plodding-
My brothers’ feet.
thousands stand
yelling as one
shouting about
a man trying to
hit a ball
over a wall
while I sit
soaking it all
in not feeling
connected to the
emotional surge,
missing the wave
as it passes me by