- Your win my loss, the fence around a couple,
- a family, a circle of friends, a class of schoolmates,
- holds in an allotment of good,
- says there is just so much to be had
- and the balances must always be calculated,
- the dabs of luck, the dollops of joy
- meagerly dispensed within each closed encampment.
- .
- Don't get too much now —
- You keep your mitts off my share.
- .
- What if we blew the walls and let it all in,
- all the triumphs, all the kudos,
- all the foot-stomping, hand-clapping,
- good-on-you jubilation?
- What if we welcomed it all no matter who it favored?
- You'd rejoice with your mate, your chum, your sib,
- your chem lab partner,
- and know you'll have the same from them
- when the bottomless basket of benefices
- spilled its blessings into your own grateful hands.
