Devon Neal


It’s 4th-and-4 and they’re going for it,
but what he sees as I bend toward the TV

is the dim lamplight melting into buttery air,
a kaleidoscope television flashing grassbitten uniforms,

the fireplace juggling,
pebbles of popcorn next to the half-empty bowl,

a cat like a beret on the back of the couch,
and my arm grazing his, glinting with a watch

reminding him that, in support of the team,
we let him stay up after bedtime.

Devon Neal took a 10-year break from writing to raise kids, only to find that he now only has time to write poems one sentence at a time.