Champion — a poem about a lost hometown hero

Champion

God and love—
and love of God—
were so important to you
that even those who weren't religious
became believers of the gospel
when it was read by you.
Out of our graduating class,
you were the one we all believed
would keep his head on straight
and stay clean.

Most likely to succeed
and to do it his own damn way.
Plaques and trophies
emblazoned with
your name and a yesteryear
fill the glass cases in the hallway
not because you're gone
but because you were here.

The field is still on fire;
the bleachers never empty—
or at least that is the way it looks to me.
The victory song still plays all night long
and I'm still the girl with the dream.
We've still got the championship team.

But after the bell grinds out its last note
and I walk the familiar path home by rote,
the Polaroids fade and the tape unwinds.
I perceive the difference between reality and my mind.
Though you're our hometown legend
and you live beyond the bounds of your own life,
the glory is glitter pretending it's gold.
We can be philosophized but not consoled,
and in the end you were right about the cold.