5 November 2022 (Sunday night football)
Kristen Lindquist
Sunday night football
our cheers for a touchdown
scare the cat
Book of Days
BOOK OF DAYS: A POET AND NATURALIST TRIES TO FIND POETRY IN EVERY DAY
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Filtering by Tag: Patriots
3 February 2019 (Super Bowl)
Kristen Lindquist
river’s applause
from the open window
Super Bowl Sunday
December 22: Gifts
Kristen Lindquist
Against the backdrop of a glittering but dangerous ice storm, we celebrated an early Christmas with my family last night, feasting on our traditional lobster stew, exchanging gifts, and cheering on the Patriots (who clinched the AFC East title).
Bounty of food, family love.
And even the Patriots
gave us a gift.
Bounty of food, family love.
And even the Patriots
gave us a gift.
September 9: Sports Sunday
Kristen Lindquist
Except for a brief stint observing a wave of birds moving through the backyard this morning, I have to confess that I spent most of the day as a total couch potato. But how could I not? The Patriots opened their season kicking butt against the Titans, their offense and defense firing on all pistons. Then Serena Williams battled Victoria Azarenka to win an epic US Open championship. There's nothing like sitting around eating popcorn and chocolate while really buff athletes display their physical prowess in their various arenas--Hernandez catching that first TD pass from Brady, Azarenka slamming that cross-court shot that even Serena applauded... My heart is racing as if I just ran the length of a football field. I'll get to that tomorrow...
Completed pass.
The various ways
we seek satisfaction.
Completed pass.
The various ways
we seek satisfaction.
November 8: Football
Kristen Lindquist
Although the focus of traditional haiku was the natural world, contemporary haiku--especially contemporary American haiku, no less--has been more wide-ranging in topic. My personal lens is a natural one. Birds, weather, and the outdoor world generally inspire and inform my writing, one reason why I am drawn to haiku as a form of aesthetic expression. Which is why I surprised myself with today's poem.
On this uncharacteristically warm November morning, I went for what may well have been my last outside run for the season. We joined friends for a neighborhood brunch, at which we marveled at being able to sip our mimosas on the deck. I spent some time tromping around in the leaves in the back yard. It seemed like everyone was out for a walk. But this is Sunday: football day. So while we opened some windows to continue to enjoy the unseasonable warmth, we were on the couch when this afternoon's game came on.
I am an unabashed sports fan, avidly following the Red Sox and the Patriots. I also enjoy watching top-level golf and tennis tournaments, and have harbored a secret passion for horse-racing since childhood. (Having now made that confession, I can't resist a small aside here celebrating yesterday's victory of the undefeated, 5-year-old mare Zenyatta in the Breeder's Cup Classic. This race had never been won by a female, and Zenyatta had never been run against the boys, but she was the favorite--everyone was holding up "Girl Power" signs. I am not ashamed to admit that her dominating, come-from-behind win versus a strong field that included this year's Kentucky Derby and Belmont Stakes winners made me cry.)
So, I take my sports seriously. And Sundays revolve around the Patriots in this house. There are few athletic feats more satisfying to watch than Tom Brady throwing a perfect pass to Randy Moss, who then cruises across more than half the field dodging Miami defenders to score a touchdown that puts us once more in the lead. And a reference to football is as appropriate a seasonal marker for autumn as falling leaves and the harvest moon, right?
Randy Moss touchdown,
Pats take the lead. Have to cheer!
So sorry, old cat.
On this uncharacteristically warm November morning, I went for what may well have been my last outside run for the season. We joined friends for a neighborhood brunch, at which we marveled at being able to sip our mimosas on the deck. I spent some time tromping around in the leaves in the back yard. It seemed like everyone was out for a walk. But this is Sunday: football day. So while we opened some windows to continue to enjoy the unseasonable warmth, we were on the couch when this afternoon's game came on.
I am an unabashed sports fan, avidly following the Red Sox and the Patriots. I also enjoy watching top-level golf and tennis tournaments, and have harbored a secret passion for horse-racing since childhood. (Having now made that confession, I can't resist a small aside here celebrating yesterday's victory of the undefeated, 5-year-old mare Zenyatta in the Breeder's Cup Classic. This race had never been won by a female, and Zenyatta had never been run against the boys, but she was the favorite--everyone was holding up "Girl Power" signs. I am not ashamed to admit that her dominating, come-from-behind win versus a strong field that included this year's Kentucky Derby and Belmont Stakes winners made me cry.)
So, I take my sports seriously. And Sundays revolve around the Patriots in this house. There are few athletic feats more satisfying to watch than Tom Brady throwing a perfect pass to Randy Moss, who then cruises across more than half the field dodging Miami defenders to score a touchdown that puts us once more in the lead. And a reference to football is as appropriate a seasonal marker for autumn as falling leaves and the harvest moon, right?
Randy Moss touchdown,
Pats take the lead. Have to cheer!
So sorry, old cat.