Myriorama Moment
later that night

Open Gates

August 2000

flushed faces
huge grins
gently taking the guys down

my son open-faced

they laugh as they try to stop one another
so absorbed and happy in their game
falling anyhow to the ground like puppies

the sweet scent of sweaty boy on a cool afternoon

“Bryn,” they say, “Bryn!”

they run first the one way then back again and then again
yanking each other by their PE blue shirts
necklines gape and stretch and flap
seams give up
socks grow holes

they just enjoy it so much

choosing, running, chasing, dodging
catching, crashing, tumbling
I love the way they know how to play without hurting

leaves in their hair
an extra layer of Highbury on knees and feet

strong and healthy
down to the grass they fall again
and up in an instant
or if someone takes a long time to get up
something’s sore or he’s winded or wants a rest
that’s fine, nobody notices

some of their voices are starting to deepen
surnames fly through the air
and on they play, and on

“fond memories of happy days”

I hope they’ll be able to keep the memory of this game
the deep unthinking joy and absorption and abandonment
and all their lives be able to recall the memory and sensations
and feel happy then too