the eighty yard run

you remember
the time you took
the ball and  swept
right in the high grass
turning the corner
arms and legs in motion
seeing the whole
field. seeing
the blue sky,  feeling
the pure energy
of the moment.
your lungs full
of autumn air.
swerving with high
steps, juking,
galloping towards
open field
untouched for
eighty yards.
the memory has
served you well
over the years,
keeping you young.
keeping you
both here and there.