Forgive your fathers

Never once did the running list
pull our weight.
now all bets are placed
I wait for accolade.
Where do the picks and rounds hide in winter
where do they run for cover
Harborage
when your quarry goes to ground
leave no groud to go to
a covert move, made unintentionally.
And like a sprained ankle.
run for cover 
Where do you cover your lapses.