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Christopher Caskey
This poem came to me when I was working at a middle school in South Syracuse. I saw some kids taking turns running a football into a huge pile of leaves. Each time the kid with the ball would come out the other side and do his touchdown dance. As the game kept going, it became clear that it was more about the celebration than the actual football play.

The scene took me back to my childhood when I used to do the same thing with my brothers. This unsupervised moment of neighborhood kids playing symbolizes my Syracuse experience.

Leaves raked—a mile high.
Young ones dive, imagining
football field glory.

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