Northern League Haiku

To mark World Poetry Day, a few thoughts on the world’s second oldest football league in seventeen syllables or fewer.

Turin. On the pitch
Eleven Durham miners
Run rings around the world.

The goalkick bounces.
“Mine!” he yells, his eyes alight.
He shoots at the moon.

Crook – Barcelona.
To Messi, Cruyff, Kubala:
Your boys lost 4-2.

Flooded goalmouth
The keeper dives
A fraction too soon.

The old pitch
They both fly in
Thwack!

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