How easily events conspire to weigh
the spirit down when loosed to empty space;
the negative assumes a pride of place
and takes a power in curbing dour dismay.
The great success of evening crowns a day
where doubt redressed itself less incident,
without the hollow shout that booms intent
where buoyant spirits met in field of play.
Yet even as this day unfolds the blight
despairs in weary eyes turned from the light,
shrinks sweet resolve from yesterday’s delight.
Our hearts and minds are lost to barrenness
which bears no clear resemblance to the best
of times we shared in fleeting happiness.
© 6 August 2008, I. D. Carswell
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