Swing, Swing

Playing tennis and moving on are one and the same
Tighten your grip
And you lose control
Swing blindly
And you miss your chance
At returning the shot
So you stand up
Own your position
Take a swing backwards
And launch the ricocheting orb
Back to where it came from
Crossing your fingers, albeit hoping
That it doesn’t return
You won’t be mistaken
You’ll know if you’ve done it right
The stance feels right
The contact feels right
Hell, even the popping sound feels right
Still, if you don’t
You’re in luck
Tennis is a repetition
All those mishaps
All those missed shots
All those sore muscles
Prepare you for your next big hit
Just don’t stop playing


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