Thursday, 24 January 2019


Emiliano Sala
Across the channel flew
To change his green and yellow kit
For Cardiff's white and blue.

The winter sun shone down on Nantes,
As with a wave and bow,
He bade his team-mates and the fans
Goodbye—la ultima ciao.
The dark blue sea, the rough white surf,
Those are his colours now.

Once he was sprinting down the field
With every eye on him;
Now helicopters search in vain
As winter light grows dim.

Once he would tackle, strike and score
To stadium-stunning cheers,
But now waves roar above his head
And he no longer hears.

His keen sharp eye, his fit brown limbs
That had such strength and skills,
The careless ocean has in hand
And tosses as it wills.

Just when we think the game is ours,
The future fair and rich,
Then tyrant Death his whistle blows
And sends us off the pitch.

© Thomas Tyrrell

Thomas Tyrrell holds a PhD in English Literature and fills his ample spare time by writing pirate ballads, nature poems and sonnets. A two-time winner of the poetry prize at the Terry Hetherington Award, his work is published in Allegro Poetry, The Lake, Picaroon, Three Drops from a Cauldron and Spectral Realms, among many others.