[This was written after the courtside stabbing of Monica Seles during a break between tennis games in Hamburg, Germany. <br /> <br /> <br />With love we started, <br />and predictable <br />boxes <br />lined to hold youthful <br />energy. <br /> <br />We served <br />toward that familiar net <br />hard, <br /> <br />and received <br />what we expected to return <br />so <br /> <br />the rhythm would <br />beat <br />and pause <br />beat <br />and pause <br /> <br />a <br />plaus- <br /> ible <br /> <br />way <br />to spend <br />our selves. <br /> <br />We might have known <br /> <br />that the inevitable thrust <br />beyond <br />our boundaries <br /> <br />and scream <br />uncomprehending <br /> <br />would break <br />our game.<br /><br />Dennis Lambert<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-game-16/
