About fifty children stirring dust,

Running

Shouting

Screaming after a ball.

Little legs swinging,

Hoping to touch a flying ball.

One throws his right leg;

The ball walks past him, his feet run after it.

Another takes the ball, runs away with it

To a place he can freely hit it.

Soon he is surrounded by many legs

Like ants who chance on sugar.

He hits the ball and runs after it

To have a second hit but

Someone cuts him from behind.

The girls, amidst the running boys,

Interrupting their game with their cries,

"Oh...let me play some"

The ball leaves them to the side of the field

Where one boy is seated waiting

For the ball to come to him

He takes the ball to the pole

Where the keeper is too small for his post.

He fixes the ball for a strike,

Too late,

Supporters and opposers attack him.

The leg that hits the ball sends it

High into the sky, all eyes follow.

Before it hits the ground,

The bell rings.

PE is over.

I will remember this with a smile,

Many years later.

(c) February 28, 2016

You can read more poems from Obed Amu Mawutoh at http://theamumawutoh.blogspot.com