This actually is our agenda for this weekend, too, but I wrote this on another Saturday morning a few weeks ago:
Saturday Morning Agenda: Soccer Game & Gymnastics Meet
Pulling back glowing sunshine hair into a ponytail
With a battered black elastic yanked from her wrist.
From high it bobs to best effect
Bouncing, insouciant, devil-may-care.
Rummaging for supplies and spray,
Smoothing, twisting, tucking.
Restrained with pins and more pins,
Bright glimmers among muted strands.
Knocking and clattering, coltish legs
Smack the ball, bang kitchen cabinets.
She chatters and shouts, all bold bravado:
This girl takes up space.
Sleepy and fretful, murmuring self-admonishments,
She curls catlike on the sofa
And snuggles under the blanket,
Half-dreaming of pointed toes, and glory, and shame.
No injuries (knock wood!), but she’ll show you her scar
From when that opponent accidentally bit her arm.
The girl took her knocked teeth to the sidelines to cry
While she, bleeding, laughed and played on.
Osgood-Schlatter’s a bump on the knee,
From relentless workouts, tumbling and practice
On joints straining to grow. But washboard abs,
Rippling biceps make eyes bright with pride. She glows.
She runs on the field grinning broadly,
Then shoulders girls with a growl.
She’d rather play up, but her protection’s fierce–
She takes the corner kicks and shots from midfield,
And she’ll boss her teammates if they need it!
Warming up, she looks small; face shadowed and intense,
Her nerves belie the strength and poise she doesn’t see.
Routine’s end brings exultant salute or bright flush and bit lips.
She trots to sit at the edge of her teammates
And claps: wistful, smiling, pining for their skills.
So graceful: joyful and free or studied and precise.
So strong: muscling in to connect or pressing up and holding steady.
So bold: trash talking or overcoming fears.
So much to inspire on a Saturday morning
And almost too much love and beauty to bear.