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84 feet


diamond_ace

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for once in a year
the world pauses
to watch a leatherbound sun
as it goes into two similar orbits
84 feet apart
 
daily routines become paradoxes of nothing
as every sound, every flash of light, every moment of attention
is turned toward this globe of promise 
as though it were the only thing in the world
and for two brief days it is
 
two more days after, life gradually returning to normal
hope extinguished for half
hope enflamed for the rest
another net, another buzzer, another hosing out the chance
for half of the half
 
complete strangers halfway across the continent
wanting the same thing to happen at the same time
the following week it doesn't happen
they return to their lives
thinking no one has it like them
 
everyone has it like them
 
not at the same time, not in the same place 
but everyone has it like them
 
84 feet separating the hope from the hopeless
 
five days later
rinse, repeat
another half tastes the dryness of no longer
chomping at the bit for a win
 
so few left, many have given up
routines resuming, the globe of promise letting down almost all
four remain
then two
then one
 
and for the one 
the celebration is short lived
so much else to do
so many areas to focus, to fix, to patch together
 
until next year when the leatherbound sun
travels yet another 84 feet
 
math says division by halves will never fully reach zero
this is not math
this is madness
this is march.
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