She serves from half-court. I return forearm. She backhands it over the net. I race into position and pivot, delivering the best backhand of our volley. Did she return it? Did I?
Getting water later, I say, “We’ve progressed from terrible to rotten.”
Tennis court bathed in sunlight slapping sounds
We return from the country store with a fresh loaf of bread—and from outfitters with a new pair of sunglasses. Mira prepares another European-style cheese/meat platter for lunch. We toast each other with the last of our white zin.
Classical music goat cheese and prosciutto under clouds
Photo by Aaina Sharma
first published in Image Curve, May 2, 2019
for dVerse Poets’ OLN Journey with me! (pubtended by Lillian)
Frank J. Tassone 
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