That Last Point

April 22, 2009
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The toss goes up, a beautiful serve
We stand ready to receive it.
Both teams know they’re the ones who deserve
To leave with trophies and faces lit.

The passer sends the ball up high,
the setter stands ready.
One hit is needed for the rally to die,
we all remain steady.

The other side watches, nervous,
as the ball rolls through the air.
As a response to the other’s service
we must do what they wouldn’t dare.

A step and a hop,
and a body gliding, nearly flying.
For a moment time seems to stop,
no time for any tying.

Then all at once time fast forwards
and a slam explains the rest.
There is no more need for words.
We’ve finally passed the test.

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