Set and Match

It was the final set,

Victory was near.

It had come down to this,

The world would get,

And with one little sphere,

Into a company of bliss.

 

Match point, it was

Not even a sound had roamed,

All was quiet,

Like a deep summer abode

 

One, then another, and finally the third

The ball flew by, like a hungry bird.

Back and forth, and back again.

As I swung in the same rhythm.

 

My last sweat had broken,

Had this been the end?

And with this last final stroke,

My spirit would fly, transcend.

 

A miss, a screech,

A howling noise.

A gasp, a roar,

A tear down my face.

 

Match.

 

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