The Volleyball Player
It’s a hot, humid day.
The server wipes the glistening
Sweat off her forehead.
She drowns the noise
Of the cheering crowd
Out of her head.
“Focus” she thinks.
She sees the team on the other side,
Waiting, expecting, for her serve.
She twirls the ball, 1…2…3…4
Four times in her hand,
Her superstition.
She tosses the ball
Into the air,
And smacks it,
Sending it flying
To the receiving team.
They go for it,
Just barely sending
it over the net.
She jumps
And spikes the ball
Over the net.
The crowd cheers.
She smiles.
She has won the game.
