Tuesday, 10 February 2009

my first squash racket



A time comes, when a man (or a woman) has to let go.
Sport is not without its perrils,
For bodies of flesh and metal alike,
Death comes, sooner or later.

Farewell, my slazenger,
It was a wall too many,
A hit too canny,
The abrupt road finally ducks.

2 comments:

Amande S. Kasserine said...

poor thing!

Gustave Norman Grid said...

Alas, the time had come
no longer to share my hand
no longer to run widly
in a white room by the pool