After school, little sister fries up steak & eggs pre-game.
She’s cooking, before mom arrives home, for three teen-tackles,
one her big brother on whose glory parental fumbles cease.
Friday night throngs cheer Spokane, Washington teams together,
Mom & Dad wrapped up warm in lap blankets of family.
Dreams of the surprise play—tackle makes a touchdown.
A few years later, Dad drives the ’64 Ford ninety miles down
across Palouse fields to University of Idaho gridiron games,
with a carload of groceries for the hero’s growing family—
twins & early births, five kiddos with diapers to tackle.
Little sister loves babysitting the five & hanging out together
but wishes her carsick vomiting on those drives would cease.
Her high school years advance as guys without cease
ask her to dance. She thinks it’s a touchdown,
realizes it’s hometown worship as young jocks gather
to inquire about her now pro-ball brother’s recent game.
Enter the feminist era, she rejects football & all tackles,
although still swaying with halftime music of her family
assembling to cheer big brother’s New York Giant family.
It seems their sporting bi-coastal life will never cease.
Despite protective gear, daily scrimmages seem to tackle
his health & his legs that keep on breaking down,
casted bones in off-season healing for the next season.
In a resurrected photo, little sister smiles together
in Disneyland with legends Tarkenton & Tittle together
when Giants play the LA Raiders. Soon, brother Jim, the family
hero interrupted—shoddy repairs force retirement from the game.
Resilient, he profits in the scoreboard business without cease,
CEO who offers good & badass coaching down
to the last minute as father, husband, son, in spirit still a tackle.
Stats say hearts of pro linemen succumb early to life’s tackles—
they find him slumped across his Universal Gym at 57, together,
now in shock, although mourners call his life a touchdown.
At the California funeral, folks honor the man of friends & family.
Widow tells grandsons not to muss the coif he’d combed w/o cease.
For the field goal, he’s laid to rest in Spokane at end of his game.
I am that little sister tackling family ties as I weave my X & O
plans together in 10-yard increments. Without cease, I count
penalties, first downs, & touchdowns each game of life day.
***
Mary Ellen Talley’s poems have appeared in many journals including Louisville Review, Deep Wild, and Trampoline as well as in multiple anthologies. Her chapbooks are: “Postcards from the Lilac City” from Finishing Line Press, “Taking Leave” from Kelsay Books, and “Infusion” online at Red Wolf Journal. She resides in Seattle, WA and worked for many years as a school-based speech/language pathologist (SLP.) Her website is www.maryellentalley.com.
