Ode to my Racket
By Vanessa Van Pell
You are
Nervous
Your strings tighten
As I warm up
I feel the blood start to pump
Through every vein in my body
You start to settle
Knowing I will protect you
I will not let you down
All the nights you stayed up
Just to let me play an extra 380 balls
Every sound as crisp as a
Butcher cut
Then we start
I grip hard to feel your gold
The black
I had hope
I see you as a shooting star
Something I will always wish on,
But only a few times does it turn out
My way
I smell the sweat
Slowly dripping down
My hands onto you
Unlike others you will not
Slip out of my hands
The terror that everyone looks at you with
Praying that Alex strung you well
You are dark,
Devious
Not to me though.
The smell of water
Linger over the dark brown hair
Over my head
I would pull through for all you have
Done for me
I know that you are nervous
So nervous,
Yet not once
Are you trembling with the wind.
6-4 5-3 and I’m up,
and I need one more point to win this,
just one
I glare hard down the sun-burnt courts
Yes I wish on you,
No one will ever know what I say to you
Now you don’t go and tell people
It’s our little secret
The salt on my face trickles down,
Into the dried creases
Of my mouth
I had won,
I grinned and looked at you
I knew you had given it your all
Loses or wins
I don’t care
‘Cause I had you