Tennis Lessons at Midnight


The night is thick with a new vocabulary.
Our voices bounce strange words to each other,
 "deuce" and "love" confusing the quiet air.

In this cooling world of court and line,
we are partners alone in a new way,
struck by the exactness of green rectangles. 

We could be the only people on earth.
A net apart, we dance to the buzzing of spotlights
and the night-sweaty rhythm of our breathing.

Fireflies flash between forehands and backhands
as our arms dream of steady, strong strokes
and our rackets call thwop, thwop to each other.

The ball, a spinning planet, yours, then
quickly mine, hurtles toward destination,
as if there never was a choice.       


Nina Riggs