Rearranged
(we'd lost Her Majesty on the Thursday prior)
Ticket dated 10th September still valid
For a frost-ridden trip
Through snow showers, over ice
Up the hill from the old town
To Barnsley on a Tuesday evening
In early March

Not just me, but twelve hundred
Of the Blue Army, turning blue
Beneath the floodlight pylons
Proper lights, towering over us
Turning the flakes to silver petals
Swirling around the ground
Catching on our eyelashes

A huge modern stand to our left
Empty except for five ball boys
The structure mothballed until the time
The Tykes get to play
Higher than tier three football
where Pompey languish
with Accrington

We can only watch
They shoot, they score
Our toes slowly lose feeling
We sing and shout
Temporarily cheered by Bishop's goal
Until the ball smashes into our net
Again we head for home
Pointless

~

CLP 15/03/2023