Again the season stretches into this:
The gap between the summer and the fall
Narrows at last. The space between the wall
Our backs were up against was an abyss.
Now, desperation blurs to hit-or-miss.
The days and weeks and months we fought are all
Being wiped out by one flight of the ball.
Some fates can be sealed only by death's kiss.
The season didn't want to go away
Either. And when the game was tied, it seemed
It might well do so. However, last stands
Will come to all of those who come to play
Just like the game itself. But we too dreamed,
And, diving, held the season in our hands.