Though never a player
Too slow, too skinny, too scared
There are three footy jumpers
I wear

The newest a present
From a club president
Thanks for helping out
Goal-umpiring, scoreboard
Stories, poems
This and that

The opp-shop jumper
A gift from my daughter
Coincidence that its colours
Green and blue and gold
Were worn by my brother
Mid-teens
Half a century ago

My father was too busy to play
Seven other mouths to feed
But after an old mate died
The widow gave Dad
The blue and gold stripes
That had been worn
Many, many years hence
In the husband’s youth

The last and the first jumper
Was lost amongst the grieving
For a brother
Who, in his late teens, wore
Red and gold and black
Playing across half-back
Not too skinny, certainly not scared

MA painting by my daughter
Stripes in every quarter
Four footy jumpers
Three that I wear
On winter weekends

One that I will never see
Nor touch again.