one serves oneself

the closest tennis court is really nice,
one of the best i've ever played on
with a perfect net and clean surface and tall
fences and a wall
to practice on, surrounded by enormous trees
i'm there to practice serves
with a bag of balls
some of which have my kids name on them
as they were hers most emphatically
both courts are being used when i get there
two teenage boys play a match
while two stocky grown men swat it back and forth
and take long breaks to visit by the net
they're all pretty good
it's a really nice
court. the teens leave first, i get
the shady side as the other guys also slowly
amble off to their car
i practice my serves, into
the corner where the fences meet so they're corralled
some stick in the fence
some really kick with spin
it's gratifying and the hot sun feels serious
when i serve from one side of the court, the sun
just peeks through one gap in the branches
right in the eye
shouldn't matter much having hit a million balls before
way back when i played hours every day
on merely decent courts
with saggy frayed nets and arbor vitae needles
and a sundown wind what pushes the
ball around like a top.