Tennis

'Like playing tennis with the net down.'
–Robert Frost

Just as you raise high your racket
the baseline creeps away from you.
Unsettled, you shuffle and serve
but your judgment is shaken
and your partner responds with ease.
        Love fifteen.

The tramlines, no longer parallel,
misalign the opposite court
and anyway start to fade.
There's no chance of knowing
if you're pitching it right.
        Love thirty.

The net disappears. There's nothing
between the two of you
but space and a sense
that you're playing a game
in which scores are being kept.
        Love forty.

No umpire, no line judges,
no calls if you foot fault,
until it's too late.
No court is set out
and you are no match for this
        game.