IF I could paint you, friend, as you stand there, Guard of the goal, defensive, open-eyed, Watching the tortured bladder slide and glide Under the twinkling feet; arms bare, head bare, The breeze a-tremble through crow-tufts of hair; Red-brown in face, and ruddier having spied A wily foeman breaking from the side, Aware of him, -- of all else unaware: If I could limn you, as you leap and fling Your weight against his passage, like a wall; Clutch him, and collar him, and rudely cling For one brief moment till he falls -- you fall: My sketch would have what Art can never give -- Sinew and breath and body; it would live. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THE INFLATION OF THE CURRENCY, 1919 by ROBERT FROST FOR THE NEW YEAR by EDWIN MARKHAM DOMESDAY BOOK: ALMA BELL TO THE CORONER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS QUI S'EXCUSE S'ACCUSE by MARIANNE MOORE HITS AND RUNS by CARL SANDBURG |