All Smiles

He turns up the volume.
Just enough to drown out the sound
of next door’s Sunday morning orgasms.
Please please me, oh yeah…..
That’s an old one he thinks. Smiling.

She stood on the sidelines
watching him play. Cheering him on.
That’s when she knew, she told him,
years later, that he was the one.
He remembers their Sunday mornings. Smiles.

The pitch is still there. Sometimes he goes
and stands among the ghostly trees
and recalls running with the ball.
His heart beats faster. He pictures her young face,
her cheers lost amongst the roaring crowd. She’s smiling.