The Game Plan (4 September)

I still believe it isn’t over
Until the final siren
Until the whistle blows
Until the lights are dimmed.

At first it seems as if we have
Fallen from alignment,
Diverging orbits plotting
Unzipping paths and purposes.

Still I grip tight to hope
Until those last seconds expire
When time’s stampede forecloses
One last Hail Mary.

Ah me, our lines never really
Crossed but blurred
Unfaithfully for a brief moment:
One of us was misled.

I will settle for valiant defeat,
Would prefer small victory
Where you would snatch a stalemate
Through a heart-piercing grind

Snatching pieces and sweeping pawns
Dismissively, chipping off their gloss.
Our game plan is different:
We begin by restoring them from loss.

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