In Memory of George Best


In one corner of our mind it remains 1969:
Frosted pavements, icy breath, yet our hands thaw

In the thrill of chasing a ball under streetlights,
Voices in the dark calling the names of Best and Law.

A drudge of decades have clogged our arteries,
Yet no matter what occurred, what we have become,

When we see again his feint, his sheer artistry
Thousands of us are instantaneously made young.


back to external affairs list