There was joy
on Broad Street
a bus full of football players
rolling down the Thorofare
triumphant like gladiators
earning praise from Caesar
and drunken hooligans alike
A fool tried to scale
a greased up traffic pole;
People sang a fight song
reveling in the moment
Strangers occasionally stopping
hugging complete strangers
ecstatically lost in the moment
and one can say
results of a game don’t matter
and in the grand scheme of things
they would be correct
but for a few brief moments
we’ll just forget all that
and exult the triumph
of a glorious Sunday one February