#MidServeIntensity

[kajapopko3456]

on the court he stands the weight of the racquet the soft grip of the handle its familiarity in his palm thinking of when he first held one much younger a boy then now a man the sun bleeds orange and pink the shadows grow long a game of love they said but where is the love in the relentless pursuit of victory over another the crowd murmurs hushed tones he hears them but doesn’t swirling in his ears like the distant waves of an ocean a memory of a beach where he played with his father the ball tossed high its parabola against the sky a metaphor for ambition or perhaps for hope his serve swift and strong the ball like a bullet yet the opponent nimble agile responding with grace and force a dance between them sometimes violent sometimes delicate but always passionate they move forward they retreat a game or is it life itself the ache in his legs the sweat trickling down reminds him of other battles other courts some won some lost the taste of victory sweet the bitterness of defeat just as intense and yet here he stands racquet in hand playing not just his opponent but his past his future his doubts his dreams the ball now in his court a decision to make to serve to falter to play or not to play that is the question and as the sun sinks lower and the lights take over he knows that this is more than just a game it’s a reflection of who he is who he was and who he wants to be and with that he serves. Kaja Popko