Connection Lost

The room hums with voices—laughter, shouts,  

Hands clutch cans, the air electric, alive.  

The quarterback steps back, scans the field.  

A pass arches high, slicing blue sky.  

Eyes widen, motion caught mid-air—hope,  

A receiver's arms stretching, the moment.  

He is there, waiting in open territory,  

An anthem of glory poised to erupt.  

But silence, sudden, like a lightning crack.  

The screen stills, pixels frozen in betrayal.  

A groan rises, heavy as Sunday itself,  

Connection lost, wires unseen severed.  

We sit, stranded in time's aching hold,  

The roar of the crowd a phantom's echo.  

Around us, life breathes, dust-speckled, calm,  

But our gaze lingers on that vanished arc.