every moment of the regular season is spent in anticipation of the
final game of the post season
the final game (or series as the sport may call for) arrives
and we cower in the corner more comfortable in our
anticipation than our excitement at what has arrived
and like that loneliness we’ve come to love and mourn
(albiet briefly and irrationally)
when we marry
we miss the feeling we know more than we enjoy the
moment when it arrives.
the sieve and the sand 