refraction

have caught the missing moment of each day

taken it prisoner and won't release

a single second of our hope's increase

out of plain fear that golden light could stray

from warming hands that yet know how to play

the human game without harm or caprice

into cold air that would soon end all peace

sending the waiting watchers on their way

have known hard losses and much harder wins

on courses and on surfaces that yield

their gifts to those who have little to tell

though coldest nights save the long count of sins

serving as sustenance across the field

while each survivor wishes they could yell