Author: Kenn Nesbitt

Football season has just begun, and some members of my family are already enthusiastically watching the games and hoping their favorite team will make it to the Super Bowl again this year.

I’ve written lots of sports poems over the years, including a couple about football. But those poems could just as easily have been about soccer as American football. This is the first poem I’ve written that is unmistakably about American football, complete with a quarterback throwing the ball and sending it spiraling through the air.

When I started thinking about what kind of football poem I wanted to write, I thought it might be fun to tell the story from the football’s point of view. After all, what would it feel like to actually *be* a football? You’d get to soar through the air while thousands of people cheered. Players would leap to catch you, cradle you in their arms, protect you from the other team, and carry you down the field. That sounds like a pretty exciting life.

Of course, being a football might have its downsides too. But I’ll let the football tell you about those itself.

Here’s my newest poem…

It’s Fun to Be a Football

It’s fun to be a football.
It’s phenomenal to fly.
The feeling is fantastic as
I spiral through the sky.

The quarterback releases me.
I rocket through the air
and soar above the roaring cheers
of everybody there.

The players leap to catch me.
Then they form a human shield
to keep me from the other team
and run me down the field.

They hold me close and rock me
like a baby as they run.
I’m glad that I’m a football.
As a football, life is fun.

It’s honestly incredible
except in one regard…
I really wish the players wouldn’t
kick me quite so hard.

 — Kenn Nesbitt

I wrote this poem because, here in the northern hemisphere, summer is almost over and fall will be here in just a few days. But, at least where I live, you wouldn’t necessarily know it from the weather. The days are still sunny and warm, and it still feels a lot like summer, even though I know the cooler autumn weather will be arriving before long.

That got me thinking about what might happen if Summer and Autumn were actual people with jobs to do and schedules to keep. Maybe Summer can’t simply leave whenever he wants. Perhaps he has to wait for Autumn to show up and take over his shift first. And what if Autumn happens to be running a little late?

Of course, when Summer leaves us here in the northern hemisphere, he has somewhere important to go. In places south of the equator, such as Australia, South Africa, and much of South America, the seasons are reversed. Their summer runs roughly from December through March, while we’re having winter. So I imagined Summer getting ready to head south, with people there eagerly waiting for his arrival, while Autumn has reasons of her own for not being quite ready to take his place.

The result is a phone conversation between two very busy seasons trying to sort out their schedules.

Summer and Autumn

The Summer phoned the Autumn
and he asked, “Why aren’t you here?
It’s time for my vacation in
the southern hemisphere.

“My shift is nearly over and
it’s time for me to split.”
The Autumn answered, “Just relax.
I’ll be there in a bit.

“I’m shopping for an outfit.
I could use a brand-new gown.
I need an orange dress with lots
of yellow, red, and brown.

“As soon as I can find the one
I really want to wear,
I’ll come and take your place,
so please be patient. I’ll be there.”

“But Autumn,” said the Summer,
“There’s a place I have to be.
Australia sent a text to say that
they’re expecting me.

“South Africa’s been calling too.
They want me right away.
And down in South America
they’ve asked for no delay.”

So if it’s hot and sunny when
the Autumn should be here,
it’s just the grumpy Summer
working overtime this year.

— Kenn Nesbitt

My wife recently started a new job as a school picture day photographer. Every day when she comes home, she has interesting, and often funny stories about the people and things she photographed that day. She’s taken pictures of hundreds of students, of course, but she’s also photographed teachers, school staff, and even a principal’s dog!

One thing she quickly discovered is that the grown-ups aren’t necessarily any easier to photograph than the kids. Teachers, for example, are much more likely to ask for do-overs of their staff photos because they didn’t like their smile, their hair, or the way they looked in the first one.

After hearing all these stories, I started thinking that picture day sounded like a perfect subject for a poem. My wife agreed and asked me to write a funny picture day poem that she could share with her coworkers.

So I wrote this one. Thankfully, she liked it. I hope you do too.

Picture Day

It’s picture day at school today.
I sat down in the chair
then rolled my tongue and crossed my eyes
and messed up all my hair.

I mugged for the photographer.
She frowned and shook her head,
and told me I should comb my hair
and try to smile instead.

She said, “Say cheese!” I puffed my cheeks
and jutted out my chin,
then stuck my fingers in my ears
and forced a silly grin.

She told me that, for picture day,
our portraits should be formal.
Instead, I made a zombie face,
all twisted and abnormal.

The camera clicked. I laughed so hard
I felt like I might burst.
But she just rolled her eyes and said,
“You teachers are the worst.”

— Kenn Nesbitt