Zoë sits next to me in the bleachers,

The mask of shyness falling away

As the game takes root in the blue turf.

I am blind to understanding

what causes her to cheer,

But I see the flames of excitement 

In her grin as we take silly pictures,

And breathe in the cold, crisp air.

I sit now in a dorm down the hall

From where she now resides,

Surrounded by five, now understanding

Something beyond rugby.