Displacing her thought in the air, she top spins
The ball into a pendulum loop, and wins a point.
Who knows what to make of it?
She is just like a tulip in the wind.
You may think she is something supernatural.
Her body moves with kindness, I look at her—
Poetic verses shift through each forehand smash.
Her arm goes back and forth, undulating
To the thumping rhythm of music in my head—
Sweet tulip stem, tossing her body in gleeful dance.
Flip, flop, smash—forehand and backhand—
She plays ping pong, it’s her new hobby.
Poetry by Bibek
Read 144 times
Written on 2018-03-02 at 13:15
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