Although he’s just a featherweight with arms and legs like sticks,
he survives all the scrimmages— the shoving and the kicks.
He’s always game to play the sport in any sort of weather,
with his helmet duct taped to his head and gaiters of fine leather.
He’ll show up to participate whenever they might please
with elbow guards and shoulder pads and cushions on his knees.
Every game he joins his teammates in the dugout trench,
where though they never let him play, he’s faithful to the bench.
And no matter how much they may laugh and jeer and chide and tease,
When it’s time for the team photo, he’ll turn up and mutter, “Cheese!”
Cheese, feather and game are the haunted wordsmith’s prompts today. Here is the link: