This sonnet formed in my mind as the Nationals came to a close.

A hall of Mirrors
 Robin Ford, December 2018
  
 We’re nearly there, this is the final day;
 Committee boat on station, in good time.
 Competitors are launching in the bay
 The view as always achingly sublime.
 For windward and return this is the creed:
 It’s “pick the wind-shifts upwind, set the kite;
 Attack when you’re behind, defend a lead.”
 To see who’ll gain the prize on trophy night.
 Applause for those who win, but this we know
 A metaphor for life; we run our race,
 Becalmed, or soldier’s wind or sudden blow,
 We do our best with honesty and grace.
 This eve’ning we will put away our boat
 Tomorrow is another day afloat.