An impassive woman's face she, Always shifting foot to foot, Impassive thighs at the table, Doing her exercise before service, Exercising by way of mimic, And teenage ways, But not teenage mores, Since the woman she was, About to serve, Disguised, deftly, For the match.
Crowded together, No play to go, The basketball team, As scared little girls, Wanting to win, As scared of loosing, The coaches, Grim-faced stone, Looking like parents, Wanting that win, The crowd urging, Wanting that win.
In the face a warrior she, One by one the lines drawn under eyes, In the pallour of televison lights, Impassive thighs at the table, Admonished by her coach, Impassive grey eyes, About to serve, For the match, For all the vengeance, For all the hurt, For all the other years.