travel teams

i remember looking
out the window
where i used to
live, when i was
married and there
were roses in
the yard, and
the fence was
painted white and
seeing soccer
fields as far as
the eye could see.
but these were
not the fields
where my son
would play, no,
god forbid we
would walk out
the back yard and
play a game, no.
instead we would
drive fifty miles
or so to somewhere
off the map,
following a
caravan of cars
and vans, and sleepy
children with
shiny uniforms
clinging to their
already tired
and sweaty backs.