Texas High School Football Poem

Summer’s Last Silence

Summer sun bleeds across the empty field,
pads unpacked, helmets lined like sentinels.
Coaches bark chalk-dusted rhythms on cracked ground,
fresh-cut grass scent mingling with sweat and hope.

Dave Campbell’s “Bible” thuds into mailboxes,
Adam Ogburn’s previews whisper of rivalries,
Matt Stepp’s news bombs drop like distant thunder,
preseason ranks stacking dreams and doubts.

We survived months of silent Friday nights,
our cleats longing for turf,
our hearts aching for the roar
of leather spiraling through dusk.

Bands will breathe life into the hush,
cheers will shake the rafters once more,
and under those floodlights we’ll gather
where summer’s quiet finds its end,

The first whistle cleaves the stillness,
and our season comes home.

-by KP Kelly

More writing from KP Kelly: lifelibertypizza.com