A Twain of Unlike Twins

What ere were warm, inviting open doors, To this man maudlin and defeated kind, Unsure, frightened, his dog-tail tucked behind, He now finds shut, keys lost at far off shores. Asked of voyage, on adverse winds he whines, Given a choice from a pair of evils, He chooses both— he who to doubt inclines, One sure can’t go wrong with his choice of ills. Here’s him— lion’s gait with vigour and vim, He minds no doors getting shut on his face And looks a sure shot like a tennis ace, Belief in him bouncing like rising cream, All odds-against ciphered, game on a deuce, And a shot that turns all don’ts unto dos! _____________________________________________ Poet’s note: “To a pessimist, his opportunities look like difficulties. To an optimist, the difficulties are like opportunities.” I think it was Harry Truman who said this. This Sonnet takes off from what he said. Sonnets | 10.09.2012, revised April 2022 |